Complex Desire
by GingerCat17
Summary: Narcissa has always kept her desire caged as she was taught to do. One night she is no longer able to ignore it and sets out to explore her innermost longings. However, it takes an unexpected turn and ends up to be more complex than she expected. Will she find what she desires? (Warning: deals with very heavy topics, no extra warnings before the chapters in question)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

 **A/N:** Hi guys! I have really come to love Cissamione and this is my first try at this pairing. I have more than this chapter in store, but I am not sure where exactly I want to take this and how long it will be. Just going with the flow. Let me know what you think!

Rated M for smutty reasons.

* * *

The room is pitch black and quiet except for the breathing from the person next to her. Night has long fallen and yet she lies awake. She tries to calm the thoughts in her mind. They are nothing new, but they have been getting louder and louder, screaming at her to wake up from the numbness she has been living with. Thoughts fuel desire, driving her to the brink of insanity. The liquor she has had only intensifies the chaos in her head.

She is done.

Her feet touch the wooden floor as silently as possible as she goes to her cupboard and puts on a simple tight black dress and a coat over it. It is a lot more subtle than what she usually wears but she doesn't have the time or the nerves to put on a fancy appearance right now.

She apparates right out of the room and finds herself in one of the alleys that lead off from Diagon Alley. They're small, dark and unnervingly quiet. They mean shady business. That is something she is used to, but she feels nervous nevertheless. She checks her environment to make sure she is alone. For a moment she could swear she saw her mother in one of the windows, looking down on her with judging eyes, but there is no one.

The building in front of her has no front door, but she knows where to go. She heads around the building where the back entrance is. She has been here many times with in an internal struggle raging through her and she has always lost. Today she steps inside for the first time. Her heart is beating heavily in her chest but, of course, the nervousness does not show on her face.

"Which one?", the matron asks without looking at her.

"Your best", is her answer.

Now the matron looks up from her newspaper and astonishment flickers in her eyes for a second.

"No requirements? You don't have a type?", she smirks.

Of course she does, but she is certainly not about to bare her preferences here. She is baring enough as it is.

"Your best", she repeats with the tone and face of steel that never leaves room for questions.

"Room seven, third floor."

She walks up the steps to the third floor. They creak. With every step she takes her anxiety intensifies.

When she opens the door to room seven she is … disappointed. Everything is made out of shabby old wood, the bed is covered with simple white sheets, a single light bulb dangles from the ceiling. It is way below her standards but what is a girl to do in these desperate times of need.

"Don't be shy", a feminine voice sounds.

She takes in the woman in front of her. Red hair like fire, blue eyes like the ocean, ruby lips like blood. She is gorgeous indeed.

For a moment she hesitates. She has absolutely no idea how this is supposed to go down, but then she steps further into the room and holds the envelope out. The woman takes it, checks the amount of money inside and places it on the bedside table. The redhead walks up behind her and starts to open her dress and her stomach turns.

„You will not touch me", she interrupts the action. The first time a woman touches her should not happen like this.

The other tilts her head in confusion and curiosity.

"Understood?", Narcisaa reinforces.

The woman shrugs. "Whatever you say goes."

That is the type of answer she likes to hear.

"Strip."

The witch starts to take off the very few items she is wearing. She watches her like a hawk. How she slips her painted fingers underneath the straps of her bra to slide them down. How she bents her head forward just a bit to undo the hooks. How quickly her panties fall to the floor.

"Are you happy with what you see, Mrs. Malfoy?", the redhead smirks.

She freezes at the use of her last name. She doesn't like to be reminded of who she belongs to; most certainly not now.

"Turn around." Her harsh tone makes the witch flinch. Good.

The woman does as she is told.

She approaches her slowly, her heart beat quickening. She almost flinches herself as her fingers find soft skin. How different it feels. She pushes her down to rest her hands on the window sill. The fingers of her left hand scratch down the woman's back while those of her right hand already push inside. The experience overwhelms her senses. She takes in _everything_. The warmth, the wetness, the clenching walls, every scent, every sound – until a gasp leaves her own lips as she feels the long forgotten fire in her core.

When it's over she wonders whether the witch has faked it. Probably. She becomes more frustrated by the minute and it shows.

The woman's hand is on her shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want me to…"

"No", she snaps and leaves the room without looking back.

Outside the cold wind hits her face. She leans against the wall of the shady establishment and clenches her hands. She is annoyed by what she has gotten herself into. Now she is standing outside of a brothel; flushed, drunk and horney. She walks out into the night, directionless.

The streets are empty at this time as she wanders through them. Occasionally she stumbles. She barely drinks alcohol. At some point she falls. The cold snow against her hands and knees hurts, tickling a hurt much deeper inside her. Lips trembling, she tries her best to keep tears from falling, but every now and then, like tonight, even she fails.

"Mrs. Malfoy?"

Perfect. Someone would see her crawling on all fours in the dirty snow. Just what she needs.

She looks up and sees the golden know-it-all.

"Are you alright? Can I help you?"

She feels disgusted by so much politeness. They were on different sides of a war. How awfully kind can someone be?

"I'm _fine_."

She pushes herself back up, but her legs fail her and before she knows it she is being supported by two strong arms. Her head is spinning out of control and she can't help but lean into the other body. The girl tightens her grip on her to keep her up. Her coat feels so soft and smells of her perfume. It is almost comforting to be held like this.

"I'm gonna bring you home, ok?"

She pushes herself away from the girl. She wants to be anywhere but home.

Home. What even is that?

It is only a few meters until her legs fail her again.

The hands are on her once more, pulling her up again. She looks into the witch's face for the first time. A face that holds knowledge far beyond the girl's age; that seems to understand something although Narcissa hasn't said anything.

"My place?" the witch asks and she nods her agreement.

"I'm gonna apparate us. Hold on tight."

She does.

Within seconds Narcissa feels herself swirling until her feet hit the ground again.

"We're there. You can let go now."

Only she doesn't.

She tightens her grip.

Her hands move across the girl's back.

"Mrs. Malfoy. You're drunk."

She nods her agreement.

"You don't want this."

She laughs deep in her throat and moves to look the witch straight in the eyes. Her hand moves into her hair, grabs, holds the girl's head in place.

"You have no idea what I desire." Her voice is low and husky.

The witch mirrors her movements.

Neither of them can move.

It turns her on.

"Tell me what you desire, then."

She ponders for a second. There's so much she desires, but right in this moment …

"I want you to eat me out."

The girls's eyes grow wide.

Narcissa's eyes close in embarrassment. Alcohol makes her painfully honest.

The hand in her hair loosens its tight grip. "You can sleep on the couch tonight", the girl says and then walks away to leave her there, even more embarrassed.

Sleep comes to her easily, though. She's drunk enough. And tired; whether in a literal or metaphorical sense, she's not sure. She wakes just at the break of dawn and slowly the events of last night come back to her. In a hurry she leaves the apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

 **A/N:** Wow, you guys, are you kidding me?! Thank you so much for following and reviewing! I did not expect that. So because your reviews have been so lovely and have motivated me, I'm putting out the second chapter already. Don't get used to this speed, though ;) Enjoy!

* * *

Narcissa walks into the noble restaurant as one of the waiters holds the door open for her. She has dined here many times. It is excellent, high class, but it has been starting to bore her. At the same time, she can barely stand to be at home, so she decided to come here. Unfortunately, she is not alone, but in the company of her husband. She had tried to make him stay at home, but in vain. How do you tell your husband that you would rather have lunch alone than with him? So here she is, enjoying some excellent lobster and conversing with her husband, although she has to concentrate to engage in the conversation. Her mind wanders off too often.

When she came home the other morning, she thought she wouldn't be able to face him. She thought she wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes without guilt choking her. As it turns out, she is much more of a Malfoy than she ever thought. She had no trouble facing him. Yes, she did feel guilty. Not towards him, though, but towards herself. Lucius was most likely completely oblivious to her inner struggle, but he had fallen out of love with her a long time ago anyway. At some point, she figured she had become too cold even for him. It is herself who she is really betraying.

"Darling?"

She snaps out of her trance. She stares into Lucius' face trying to catch up and figure out what he could have possibly asked, but she has no clue.

"Where are you today?", he laughs.

"Excuse me. It must be my migraine. What were you saying?" Excuses, she is so good at them.

"I was asking whether you wanted to go shopping afterwards. I know you already have several closets full of dresses, but maybe you would like something new?"

Fuck her dresses. She would trade them all for … but that's impossible.

"Well, a lady can never have too many dresses, can she? That's a lovely idea, Lucius."

"I thought so. Let's go then."

She is unpleasantly surprised. Why would he want to go with her? "You want to accompany me? You really don't have to."

"But I'd like to, honey."

"Lucius, we both know you dislike shopping. It is very kind of you, but you would only be bored and I would feel pressured to finish up quickly." Excuses, nothing but excuses.

"Well, if you say so. I'll leave you to it then."

They leave the restaurant and when they part, he kisses her goodbye. Her lips remain unresponsive.

…

Thank Merlin he left her to go on her own. It is difficult for her to be around him. It's not that she despises him, like she once used to. When she looks at him these days she just sees a stranger and it sends a shiver down her spine, making her painfully aware of her loneliness. She feels more estranged from her life than she ever has.

In one of the shop windows she sees Hermione's reflection. Her breathing stops for a second at the sight of the witch. Memories of the other night flood her mind and with them they bring the familiar feeling of shame. A lady of her calibre should never ever have behaved liked that. In reality she wishes she wouldn't care about that anymore, but the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black has left its imprint on her. She wants to leave, but it is too late. The witch has already seen her and approaches her.

"Good day, Mrs. Malfoy."

She nods her greeting. She notices the tight black jeans the girl wears that end in black boots. On top she wears a dark green coat that is tight around her torso and becomes wide from her waist downwards. From underneath it, the collar of a white blouse sticks out. The unruly hair is tide back in a loose bun. Narcissa wonders when this girl became a woman.

"How are you?", Hermione asks.

"I'm fine", she says.

 _I can't stand it. I'm fucking suffocating and no one notices. Notice. Notice me_ she wants to scream, but her upbringing doesn't allow it.

"I want to apologize for my behavior the other night", she continues. She doesn't mean it, but her upbringing requires it.

"It's alright", Hermione says.

"No it's really not. It was unacceptable. What I said, well, I am sure you know I did not mean it."

"Of course not. How could you" the woman says, but there's a sparkle in her eyes that makes Narcissa feel uneasy.

"Did you find what you desire?", Hermione asks. "Shopping here, I mean."

Narcissa's face falls for a second. Is she being mocked?

"Obviously I did not", she gestures with her empty hands.

"That's a shame. It must be very _frustrating_ ", she smirks.

The sheer audacity this witch has. Never ever has someone talked to a Malfoy like that. Narcissa fights to keep herself together.

"Perhaps I could assist you. I know a place where you'll find what you are looking for", the witch says and turns to walk away, leaving her standing there - again. After a few meters she turns around. "Are you coming or not?"

For a moment, Narcissa is glued to the spot, unsure whether she should really take this step, with _her_ of all people, but then she actually follows the witch. After all, she is a Slytherin and as such she cannot back down when an opportunity like this presents itself to her. It is almost too good to be true. She walks closely behind her through the crowded streets and around a corner into a deserted alley. Suddenly Hermione grabs her wrist and the world around her spins. When it stops her head hits something hard and she finds herself backed up against a door frame in a living room she remembers. Hermione's hand wanders into her hair like it did the other night and the witch whispers close to her ear "Remind me again what you desire."

"I want you to …" she begins and closes her eyes. She is not nearly as vocal about her desires when she is sober. "I want", she starts again, "your mouth on me." It's the most she can manage, but the witch won't have it.

"Where?", she wants to know.

Narcissa shakes her head and in response a hand snakes up her thigh, goes under her skirt until it finds her womanhood and cups it.

She gasps.

"Here?", the witch asks and traces the line of her jaw with her lips.

"Yes", she breathes and feels the witch smile against her skin. The lips ghost over her neck ever so lightly. She starts to tremble. The hand strokes her ever so slowly over the fabric of her panties and it's not long before she soaks through them. The witch doesn't fail to point it out, holding her sticky fingers in front of her face.

"So quickly? And all for me?"

She turns her head as a hint of red creeps into her cheeks.

The witch chuckels.

She feels the fingers against her lips.

"Open."

She obeys and sucks the fingers clean, tasting herself.

"Tell me how you taste."

Narcissa wets her lips. "A bit salty." Her voice is quavering.

"Salty? Really? You're lucky I like it spicy then."

The hand resumes its task and she can't stand it.

"Please", she begs as she has never done before, but it is being ignored.

"Open your blazer", the witch orders.

"Hermione, please."

"That's Granger to you. Plus, patience is a virtue, Mrs. Malfoy. Now, do as I say."

She does.

Knowing very well that the witch watches her every move, how she struggles with every button until they're all undone.

"Take them out."

She does.

Under different circumstances she would be highly insulted, but she can't think straight right now. Anticipation that accumulated over decades rises high and is about to break her. She would do almost anything so the witch does what she wants.

At least she is rewarded for it as the witch takes her nipple in her mouth.

" _Merlin_."

Her head bangs back against the frame. She pushes her chest further into the woman's mouth and puts a firm grip on her hair because she'll bloody murder her if she stops this. A couple of fingers hook behind the rim of her panties to pull them down. Hermione pushes up her skirt until she is exposed and

 _Oh._

Within seconds the witch is between her legs with one of them draped over her shoulder. She shudders as the witch breathes against her sex. So this is it.

The witch licks up the length of her sex, parting her and

" _Fuck_."

sucks her clit into her mouth.

"Another time maybe."

"Keep at it, Granger." She pushes the witch's head close to her core, feels her laughing. It sends vibrations through her.

A tongue proves its skill. Hips grind towards their goal, meeting every stroke. Her mind has long gone blank when her body shakes and her mouth screams pleasure.

When it's over, she feels relieved in more than one sense. She feels complete. She feels the woman step away from her and she doesn't want her to. She wants to be held. That's something she had never wanted after sex, but this time she longs for it. She doesn't say it, though. This is not the type of sex where you can ask for those things and suddenly she feels strange, out of place.

When she opens her eyes, she sees Hermione with an outstretched arm, her panties and blazer dangling from it. She understands the gesture. She is not wanted here any longer.

She puts on the blazer first and then her underwear, hating that the woman is staring her down while doing so. It makes her feel like some harlot who is being spat upon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is obviously not mine, but J.K. Rowling's.

* * *

 _Bang. Bang. Bang._

The sound rings in her ears, even though she presses her hands firmly to them.

"Narcissa!"

She lets herself fall into the bed and pulls the covers all the way up over her head in hope it will muffle the noise a bit.

The lump in her throat gets bigger, soon the corner of her mouth trembles and when the first tear slides down her face she doesn't try to stop it for once. She wouldn't be able to count the times she has locked herself in here because she couldn't keep it together anymore. She has been an emotional mess ever since that encounter with Granger. On the one hand, it did exactly what she thought it would do. It confirmed everything she has bottled up all her life. But on the other hand, it touched her on a whole another level. Yes, she wanted the sex and _only_ that, because she had already dismissed anything more than that. That ship sailed a long time ago. And while it has been the best sex of her life, it left her craving for so much more, for a whole another life and now she doesn't know how to return to her current one.

Tonight Lucius came onto her. He barely does so anymore, but she should have seen it coming when he persisted to accompany her for lunch, offered to take her shopping. He had been awfully nice and it should have tipped her off that he would expect something for it. It had never been enjoyable for her, but it's a part of marriage. Close your eyes, hold your breath, get through it. Tonight, though, she couldn't do it. So she settled for the lesser evil, gave him a blow job, spit into the toilet and barricaded herself in her bedroom. So that's why Lucius has been banging on the door for about five minutes, now.

"Fine, suit yourself."

His footsteps sound farther and farther away until she hears the door of their bedroom close. She pulls the covers away and takes a deep breath of the chilling air that's penetrating through the open window. She goes over to the vanity.

It's still lying there. She twists the parchment in her fingers like she's done a million times. It feels a bit rough and a bit soft as well; just like her. It reads

 _Wednsdey, 10 p.m., Room 3, Leaky Cauldron._

 _H.G._

To her it reads a challenge, a temptation. She puts the parchment under a pile of envelopes in the drawer. She goes back to bed with the intention to sleep things over when deep inside, she knows she already made up her mind.

…

The window is a bit dirty, but she can still see inside. She checks the tables. There is no familiar face, no one of importance. When she enters she is relieved to see that the Cauldron is indeed not as crowded as it usually is. It's late on a day in the middle of the week after all. People should be at home with their families – and so should she. She bans that little voice in her head that keeps telling her she ought not to do this.

The bartender greets her, she barely acknowledges it and goes right up to room three. People don't question what she does. It is one of the privileges of being a Malfoy. She pauses a moment in front of the door to room three. She is not sure what to expect given that their last encounter ended the way it did.

She steps inside and finds the room empty. It only intensifies her anxiety. Usually she is never the one to arrive first. She is afraid that, maybe, Hermione set her up and won't come. Because, really, she has no idea why the witch wants to see her again, why she took her home in the first place. Her of all people. The woman whose son used to bully her during her school years. The woman who stood by as her own sister pinned her to the floor and tortured her. It makes no sense.

The room is almost as shabby as the one in the brothel the other night. She had hoped for a different set up, but it was to be expected. This is the Leaky Cauldron after all. She goes over to the window and looks down on the people walking by. She wonders what they are up. Solitude makes it easy for the voice to reenter.

 _And what are you up to?_

 _Disgrace._

 _What a disgrace you have become._

She shudders, she shakes her head a bit as if to shake her mother out of it, when she hears the door open. She barely manages to glance back over her shoulder before the witch orders

"Don't turn around. Stay that way."

She thought Hermione's attitude might be a bit friendlier tonight, but the tone in her voice is even colder.

The sound of heavy boots tells her she is approaching and, indeed, hands grab her waist, breath ghosts across her neck and her heart beats faster. How does this woman turn her into a puddle of desire without even really touching her?

One hand moves to her breast and cups it roughly. Her instincts make her turn her head, trying to kiss the woman, but ….

" _Don't._ "

The tone is harsh and she turns her head back towards the window. The temptation to look at her is strong. She wants to see her, wants her to look her in the eyes when she'll come, but she obeys nevertheless because she fears that not doing so might make her leave. It's something she can't risk.

The other hand moves under her dress, into her panties and ….

"Fuck."

Two fingers are inside her mercilessly picking up a rapid pace.

"Open your eyes. Look at yourself", her voice sounds low in her ear. "Watch me fuck you."

She looks at their reflection in the window. The sight is enticing. Hermione looks full of domination, determination, she herself looks full of surrender and pure lust with hair sticking to her forehead and eyes fluttering.

Fingers curl and …

"No."

… the palm of her hand presses onto her clit.

"Hermione, please. I don't wanna come yet, _please_."

But pressure and pace only increase, forcing her to the peak.

"God, Hermione, _Hermione_ , Her … Ugh."

Legs shake, forcing her back into the woman behind her and she almost falls over backwards because the witch is already stepping away from her. It almost hurt when she withdrew her fingers so abruptly, barely waiting until her orgasm subsided.

And now she watches how the witch cleans her fingers off her, takes her purse and heads for the door, without saying a single word. She watches the scene with an estranged sense, as if it was a film, unable to believe that this is happening – again.

She grabs the witch's wrist.

"Stay." It's merely a whisper. There's desperation in her voice.

"Why should I?" It's a clear dismissal. There's malice in her voice. And the witch actually does leave.

While earlier she wondered why Hermione wanted to see her again, she now wonders why she wanted to see the witch again. Hermione's dominant nature had been unexpected, but welcomed. She had always been self-assured in her relationships with men. Partly because as the picture perfect pureblood daughter she had been taught exactly what to do and men tended to lie at her feet. And partly, well, she couldn't care less whether they actually liked her or not. But this, this was new territory for her. She wasn't sure what to do, how to act and my God, it mattered that they liked her. But why she chose Hermione of all the witches that might have the same preferences, she didn't really know. Of course, the sex was amazing and she wanted to experience it again, but their last encounter left her with a weird feeling in her stomach that whispered that, maybe, there was more to it. She had imagined tonight a million times and in her fantasies it went down quite differently than it actually did. She imagined the two of them tangled in the soft sheets of a big bed in a beautiful hotel, or maybe even in Hermione's bed. She had dreamt of foreplay, curious exploration and long, intense loving. She had fantasized about touching the witch and now she couldn't even get her to stay with her for a bit afterwards.

She only waits a few more minutes before she leaves the room, too. She walks back down the stairs and towards the exit. Heads turn. She feels eyes on her. Some with shock. Some with disgust. Some with amusement. She realizes that they never casted a Muffliato.

That little bitch.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm sorry it took me a while to put the next chapter out. I actually had it planned for a while as I have the next chapters, but I've been hesitant to upload it. Your reviews have been so lovely, but I'm afraid it might not live up to your expectations. This is not going to be a long, epic story. I thought about how I could turn it into one, but I don't think I can. I still hope you will enjoy the rest of this story for what it is!

ScOut4It: That's probably not going to happen in this story. At least for now. I do like a dominant Narcissa and it obviously suits the way she carries herself in the movies for example. But that's exactly why I like to show her as submissive for a change, just like I do with Bellatrix in my other story. There's something about breaking strong characters like them and showing their vulnerable sides every now and then.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling .

 **A/N:** Here is the last installment of this part of their, well, relationship? And it only gets better in this chapter. Or worse, depending on how you look at it ;)

Also, I wanna thank you so much for following and reviewing. I struggle a lot with my mental health at the moment – again – and writing as well as reading here is what keeps me in check. This story started out as a quick, tiny idea and now I have so much fun writing it! So a big shout out to all the readers and writers in this fandom.

 **Warning:** Just a quick warning that the M-rating is alive and well in this chapter and the next. Might be triggering.

* * *

9 p.m. The Leaky Cauldron. Room 7.

Narcissa is exactly where she is supposed to be according to that piece of parchment that was delivered to her earlier. Only that it is twenty minutes past nine now and she is still alone.

The last days have been a strain on her nerves. Every morning she dreaded the delivery of the Daily Prophet. She was afraid that someone might have talked, but thankfully she wasn't the star of the gossip column. She wondered how much Hermione paid the people who were present in the Cauldron last week to keep quiet. It probably won't hurt her too much, though. She can only imagine the bags of gold the Golden Trio received from the Ministry after the war. Anyway, the first thing she did when she arrived here was to cast that damn Muffliato. She will not have the entire establishment hear her again. Then she flicked through the latest edition of the Daily Prophet that was laying on the wooden table without really paying attention to its content. She doesn't even know why she is still here.

Before she can find an answer to that question, she is not sure she wants to find, the door flies open without someone having knocked. She doesn't need to turn around to know that it is her.

"You're late. Why?" Her tone does not betray the disappointment that she is feeling.

"What makes you think you have the right to ask that? You are neither my girlfriend nor my _mother_."

The remark towards her age leaves her speechless. It stings. She lets it be though, because she is much too surprised by what is happening in front of her eyes.

Hermione has taken off her coat. Not only that, but now she is taking off her trousers as well. The woman has always remained fully clothed thus far. Narcissa relishes the sight of slender and yet muscular legs, wishing she would get to see more of her, but the witch nods her head towards her now.

She unbuttons her blazer. Then, she pulls her blouse out of her skirt and, instead of pulling it over her head, she opens every single button. She wants to prolong this moment as long as possible. This is probably the longest they have ever spent in those meetings without, well, fucking. All the while she holds the woman's gaze.

Her blouse falls to the floor. She undoes the buttons at the back of her skirt and pushes it down over her hips. She leaves her lingerie on, noticed that the witch gets some sort of thrill out of taking her when she's still somewhat dressed.

The witch's eyes cling to her body, wander from her breasts to her waist, over her hips as if she was in a trance. Her curves have rendered many helpless. She smirks.

Hermione's expression gets stern again once she notices. She goes to her purse and takes some sort of contraption out, that Narcissa has never seen before, and steps into at.

At her confused look, Hermione says "It's a strap-on, a muggle sex toy. It's for …"

"I can imagine what it is for" she interrupts now that the witch has tied the thing to her hips. The fire that rose in her just a few seconds ago mixes with doubt. This is not what she had in mind when she came here.

"I had rather we not use it", she says. "I don't like it that way."

"But I do", Hermione says.

She raises her brows. "And that is all that matters?"

The witch shrugs. "See you another time, then."

Panic overcomes her as she watches the woman undo the straps again. And although every sane part that's left of her tells her not to do this, so she says "Fine. I guess there is no harm in trying."

Hermione adjusts the straps again. "You won't regret it", she says.

Although the young witch's confidence in her skill is admirable, Narcissa is not so sure about the statement.

"Get on the bed."

Narcissa does and lays down on her back, anxiously anticipating what is about to happen.

She gasps as black bonds snake around her wrists, cutting into her skin and pulling her arms above her head. That took her completely by surprise. She knew the witch was highly skilled, but speechless and wandless magic? She could count on one hand the witches and wizards who were capable of that.

Hermione gets in between her legs, slides her panties to the side and, without much introduction, starts to give her head. Her tongue swirls over her clit like a whirlwind, almost too fast. She's not complaining though. She's delightfully surprised that she gets some type of warm up at all.

Her arms seize up, stretching the bonds to their limit. The first tell-tell sign.

The witch's hand snake up her body to touch her lace-covered nippels. Interesting how this witch already knows that this move is a sure shot to her center. Lucius hasn't figured it out till this very day. Or maybe he just doesn't care. Then again, Hermione doesn't care either, does she?

Her hips jerk upwards.

"God, yes. I'm gonna come, I'm gonna…."

God damn it. That tongue is no longer on her. Instead Hermione turns her around, spreads her thighs even more and – surprisingly gently – slides the tip of the strap inside.

Her eyes snap back over her shoulder. Did the witch just moan? She wonders …

"Is it enchanted?"

"Of course it is", Hermione smirks. "I'm a witch after all. Like it or not."

 _Oh_. That knowledge sends another wave of arousal right through her. Before can she ponder much more on the whys and hows of this enchantment the witch starts pounding away at her. She clenches down hard.

"Christ, you're tight", Hermione gasps, leaning down flush against her body and grabbing her wrists with her hands.

Ah, so that's what all the warm up was for.

She can't seem to relax her muscles, only allowing the witch to take her shallowly. Which does wonders for her, because the way Hermione hits her spot so precisely is about to make her loose her mind. No, this is nothing like sex with her husband. Speaking of which …

"Seems like Malfoy doesn't hit it too much" the witch taunts.

"Shut up" she growls. How dare she talk of him right now?

"I wonder what he would say if he could see his precious pureblood wife like this."

"Shut up!"

"More like a pureblood bitch."

Enough is enough. She bites into Hermione's arm and it actually makes her cry out loud. But it also makes her bend her arm around her throat, forcing her head up, basically having her in a headlock. The position is uncomfortable and yet she enjoys it. For how much they've been fucking, they've never been this close. She can smell her perfume, can feel the witch's cheek against her own. She enjoys this closeness, enjoys the continuing onslaught on her g-spot that is turning into torture. She needs more.

"Hermione, my clit." She gets on her knees – fairly difficult in her position – lifts her hips to encourage the witch to finally touch her _there_ , but to no avail. The witch is lost in her own world, eyes tightly shut and suddenly …

"Ah!"

… she pushes past her resistance and is completely inside her. Pleasure mixes with pain. She holds on to the bonds.

" _No_ ", she chokes. "I don't like this. Please … please stop."

But the witch keeps thrusting deep, fast.

Narcissa, too, shuts her eyes thightly, only for a different reason. This isn't all enjoyable anymore.

There are those few hard thrusts, the loud groaning and the witch comes inside her.

The bonds are gone.

But she is unable to move still, frozen in time and place. She is not sure whether she just enjoyed this or not, but she knows that it makes her feel used, humiliated. _So_ humiliated. Slowly she turns onto her back, pulls her legs up, they ache. _Everything_ aches. Her hands move to cover her face because she can feel the tears coming. She growls, surpressing anger, pain and sadness all at the same time. She will not cry in front of her. She will not.

"Does it actually help?" she asks after a while.

"What are you talking about?"

Narcissa keeps her hands on her eyes, but she doesn't need to look at her to know that the witch isn't looking at her either.

"Degrading me. Does it help?" The lump in her throat grows, but she is so goddamn much in control that it is not noticeable in her voice.

"Does it help you to let out all of that anger?" Her voice grows stronger and she works herself back to her ice queen form. She gets up, faces her now, closes in on her, not giving a damn that she still naked. It can't make someone like her vulnerable.

"Does it serve as a good revenge on my side? Does it make you feel that for once you are above us? That is why you're doing this, is it not?", she spits.

"I don't owe you an explanation as to why I'm doing this or where I've been. There's no big mystery to this. We _fuck_ , Narcissa. That's all there is to it. If you can't handle that I suggest you leave."

She does, because she really cannot handle this.

* * *

 **A/N:** Whew, so who's feeling sorry for Narcissa? I know I am. What am I putting her through? lol

Update: Reposted this already because I forgot to include the part where Hermione actually puts the bonds on Narcissa. That was kind of a given in my mind lol


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** The response to this little story has honestly been overwhelming. Thank you so much for following, liking and reviewing!

I know I didn't put song lyrics before each chapter (which I usually really like), but I've been basically listening to "Shake it out" by Florence and the Machine non-stop while writing this. If anyone's interested…

* * *

 _Sunday. Same time. Same place._

The parchment is not signed. It doesn't need to be for her to know who it is from. She knows the handwriting by now. She twists it in her hands and looks at it from all angles as if looking at the issue at hand from all angles. The question that has been bothering her for days is whether she should come this time. A part of her tells her not to. She would only be hurting herself, emotionally and, given their last encounter, possibly also physically. Another part tells her that's exactly why she has come over and over again. She needs the pain, needs to hurt herself in some way. Their little affair had taken a bad turn right from the beginning, but the last meeting left her shell-shocked. She got used to the idea that Hermione enjoyed teasing her, dominating her, but never had she imagined she would do something like that. _Something like that_. She's not even sure how to name what had happened. She doesn't want to do this to herself anymore and yet she cannot help it. That's how she's always been, torn between two opposites. Torn between pleasing her parents and following her own desires. Torn between what she wished for her life to be and what it actually was. At this point she is almost positive that this affair is an illusion that will never bring her what she hopes for and yet she Apparates straight to the Cauldron. For while it is not what she truly wants, it is _something_. She needs at least something in her life.

Palms sweaty, heart racing she turns the door handle of room 7 and freezes. She did not expect her to be there already. She had always been the one to arrive first. Hermione is sitting on the chair with a half empty glass of wine in her hands and a pensive expression on her face. Something is off today. Narcissa accepts the glass of wine Hermione offers her. They both take a zip simultaneously.

"You were right", the witch says, "about my reasons."

Narcissa tenses, a shiver running down her spine. The truth is out. She had suspected so all along, but hearing it confirmed makes a difference still.

"Well, you forgot the fact that you're ridiculously gorgeous, but other than that you were right."

Narcissa can't smile at the compliment. The other part hurts too much.

"So, what about you? Why are you doing this?"

She downs half the glass before she answers. "I feel the need to punish myself for not being the daughter my parents wanted." She takes a deep breath. "And I hate myself for being a coward and not standing up to them." And _I keep on returning because I crave more_ is the third reason she is unable to say. She holds on tight to the glass in her hands. What she just said, she has never confessed to anyone.

For the first time today Hermione looks at her. Narcissa guesses people don't take her for one to struggle with self-loathing. She casts her eyes downwards, regretting what she just admitted. It makes her feel vulnerable, ashamed and she knows Hermione won't be the one to comfort her.

The witch keeps regarding her, frowning she states her plain assessment. "You're a lesbian."

Narcissa is unable to neither confirm nor deny the truth. She doesn't need to, though. The way she just flinched said it all. She tightens the grip on her glass. Her jaw is set tight. If it weren't, she would tremble. Hermione continues to regard her with such intensity Narcissa wonders whether she is using Legilimency on her.

"Was I your first?"

The nod is barely visible.

Hermione slams her glass down on the table. "Oh God", she murmurs, "if I had known that."

She starts a monologue that Narcissa doesn't hear. She can only hear her own heartbeat in her head. Everything around her is muffled, blurry. Her heartbeat gets so loud it scares her. Panic rises; she clutches the glass tighter because now she actually does start to tremble. This must not be happening. _This must not be happening_.

 _Crack._

A scream.

A gasp.

The piece of glass cuts, digs deep into her skin. Wine mixes with blood and becomes indistinguishable.

Hermione is at her side in mere seconds, grabs her hand and hooks her fingers underneath hers. "Open your hand."

Only she doesn't. She closes her fingers on her hand even more, forming a tight fist.

"Narcissa, what are you doing? Let go for Christ's sake." Hermione is almost screaming, there's panic in her voice.

So this is it. This is what she has to do to make the witch care. While the sadness of this fact overwhelms her, her fingers shake. The witch manages to open her fist.

"Fuck."

Fuck indeed. The piece has almost vanished in her flesh.

Hermione leaves the room in a hurry, for whatever reason. She looks down at her hand and sees that she already removed the piece of glass. She didn't even notice that. Soon the witch is back with a bottle of Firewhisky and some handkerchiefs. She takes her hand and pours some alcohol over it. Narcissa flinches because that actually hurt like shit.

"I'm sorry", Hermione says, "but I have to do that to disinfect the wound."

How so, Narcissa wonders. Why doesn't she just use her wand? Then she realizes that this must be the Muggle way to cater to wounds. This must be what Hermione had been taught when she was a girl. The thought is quite endearing. It is also like a knife that stabs her right in her chest. It makes her painfully aware that she knows nothing about the other woman, not more than the so called writers at the Prophet. They come from two completely different worlds and no matter how close they have been physically, there couldn't be more distance between them. It crashes down on her, the castle she has built in her head over the past weeks. Suddenly the witch's touch becomes unbearable. "I have to go", she says and pulls her injured hand away.

"Just wait a moment, the bandage isn't finished yet."

"I have to go", she mutters and takes out her wand.

"No you cannot Disapparate like this. Let me take you …. Narcissa, no!"

Her feet hit the ground hard, she crashes into the wall and falls down to the floor. A hurried apparition is never a good idea. She sees that she has arrived in the hallway on the second floor instead of her bedroom.

"Mother? Is that you?"

Oh no. She cannot deal with her son right now, cannot let him see her like this. She gets up only with the help of her sane hand and stumbles towards her bedroom, without saying a word to him. She couldn't if she wanted to with all the crying she is doing. She stops in the middle of her bedroom, clutching her head with her hands, wanting for the voices to go away, for the million different thoughts that invade her head to vanish. She doesn't know how to deal with so much emotion.

"Mother, come sit down", Draco tells her. She hadn't even noticed he followed her.

He guides her over to the bed and sits her down. "Who did that to you?" He looks at her injured hand. "Mother, who did that to you?", he asks again.

She only shakes her head. She cannot formulate sentences right now, cannot grasp a single clear thought, only … "Andromeda." Her middle sister was the only one she could ever cry with. Bellatrix loved her deeply, protected her fiercely, but she never knew how to comfort her.

"Mother, please, calm down." He puts a hand on her shoulder, gives it a little squeeze.

It is a nice effort, but it's not enough. She wants someone to hold her, but she has never known how to comfort him and now, he doesn't know how to comfort her. "Please. Andromeda."

"How am I supposed to get her?", he questions helplessly. "I could contact father. He said he's got a lot of work to do tonight, but I'm sure he'll …"

"No! I need my sister."

Draco leaves and she can only hope that he is able to get a hold of her sister. And even more so she hopes he respects her wish and does not fetch Lucius. She'd rather continue to be a sobbing mess here than to be with him, now. The mere thought of lying next to him tonight, of waking up with him, of him flicking through the Prophet and reading that his wife … She rushes to the bathroom and vomits. Afterwards she remains sitting on the floor, thoughts dissolving slowly until there's only one left: how is she going to continue like this?

She doesn't know for how long she has been sitting here like this, only that she started feeling numb a while ago. Somewhere through the numbness she thinks she hears voices. Distant, far away. Draco. Yes, that's Draco's voice and someone else's she doesn't recognize. She flinches as someone rests their forehead against hers, caressing her cheeks with their thumbs, wiping tears and pain away like they used to when they were children. When they were children? "Andy?" She snaps back to reality.

"Yes, I'm here, now."

At those words she starts crying again. Only now that her sister is here it truly hits her how much she has been missing her.

"Let me see this." Andromeda grabs her injured hand and carefully takes off the bandage. "That's nothing a little spell won't fix. _Tergeo_." The blood vanishes. " _Episkey_. There you go. Come on, let's go sit somewhere more comfortable."

Andromeda leads her over to the bed. There is no couch or anything like it in her room. They sit next to each other in uncomfortable silence. Now that the tears have dried, the comfort of a moment ago has turned into a strange mixture of both closeness and distance at the same time. There is so much to say and yet there's nothing to say.

Andromeda clears her throat. "Do you wanna talk about it? What happened?"

"I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Did Lucius screw up?"

"No, I did."

Andromeda gasps. "You're having an extramarital affair, aren't you? Oh, thank God!"

"What?!" How did she guess it? Has she been this easy to read lately?

"Well, you never loved Lucius, right? Although you did throw yourself at him back then."

"No, you're right, I never loved him and yes, I do have an affair."

"Ok, so where's the problem with this affair?"

"Well, it started off purely sexual, but now I think I want more than that."

"And he doesn't?"

"No." Narcissa's voice quavers. For a moment she wonders if she should just continue lying, but then she says, " _She_ does not."

"She?"

"Yes." It's a whisper.

"And are your feelings for the fairer sex a recent development?"

"No." Narcissa has kept her eyes off of her sister the entire time they spoke, but she feels Andy's gaze on her like fire burning her up.

"So you're a lesbian."

She flinches. "Andromeda, please!"

"You foolish girl!"

"Excuse me?"

"It's bad enough that you've been with someone you don't love for so long, but you don't really mean to tell me you entered a marriage with a man when you're gay."

She flinches again.

"You know, you really have to get that under control. That flinching when someone says you're …"

"Stop it for Merlin's sake!" It's too much. The casual way in which her sister talks about this, the fact that she doesn't question it, should make her feel relieved, but it's too much too soon.

"Alright." Andromeda throws her hands up in the air. She sighs. "Why did you marry him, Cissy?"

"What was I supposed to do?", she says defensively. "You know I didn't have a choice."

"Yes, you did. You could have said no. You could have left. I…"

"I am not you! I am not that strong. I do care what people think about me." Narcissa puts a hand over her mouth. The tears are back. "God, Andy, I've made such a mess of my life", she mutters behind her hand, "I don't know how to undo this."

"And you're sure it's just sexual for her?"

Narcissa scoffs. "I'm not even sure it's sexual for her. I think she just enjoys hurting me."

Andromeda raises a brow. "BDSM, little sister? Kinky." She nods approvingly.

"Oh for Salazar's sake, Andromeda", Narcissa says, rubbing her eyes, "that is not what I mean. I mean that she enjoys hurting me emotionally, playing with me, degrading me."

"Sounds like she holds a mighty grudge against you."

"Me, Bellatrix, the entire Pureblood community."

"Are you going to tell me who we're talking about? I'm not going to tell anyone, Cissy", Andromeda adds as if she can read her mind.

"Hermione Granger."

Andromeda's eyes widen. "I don't even know what to say to that. I never would have taken her to be the type for revenge. So, what are you gonna do now?"

"Nothing. It ended tonight."

"I mean your life, Cissy. What are you going to do about it?"

Narcissa looks at her dumbfounded. The question is completely ridiculous. What on earth is she supposed to do? "Again the answer is nothing. I will continue as I have before. I have a family, wealth, power. I have a good life."

"If you say so."

Something in Andromeda's voice, in the look on her face, makes Narcissa's chest constrict. Tonight, though, she doesn't dare to find out what that might be.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Over a hundred follows and forty reviews? Wow, you guys are amazing! I'm glad you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it. So, here is the next chapter, literally and metaphorically. Be warned, I didn't do too much editing on this one.

* * *

 _A year later_

The restaurant is crowded as it always is on a Saturday night. Lots of eyes are on her as they always are when she's out; even more so when she's out with him. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy have always been a striking couple. In the early years people were enthralled by them for their family background, wealth, Lucius' ambitions and Narcissa's beauty. These days they are still enthralled by her beauty and amused by Lucius' failure and downfall. Being the center of attention whenever she left the house was something Narcissa used to loathe. It is exhausting to never have a private moment. Over the years she got used to presenting the ideal version of a pureblood wife and nowadays she barely notices the eyes on her anymore. Tonight though is different. The gaze of a single pair of eyes in the sea of onlookers stands out. They're not just looking at her. She can feel them stare at her with such intensity it makes her feel uneasy. Her eyes drift from her husband's face over the other guests, searching for the intruder, until they find her. Her gaze is intense, unashamed and Narcissa has trouble holding it, _reading_ it. The witch's eyes flicker from her to her husband and back. She raises her brow – barely noticeable – tilts her head down and with it Narcissa's dignity. She knows exactly what the woman is thinking. Her cheeks flush in shame. Shame for being seen with him by her and shame for the simple fact that she is still with him. A year later and she still hasn't walked out of this marriage. A fact of which her sister loves to remind her whenever she can.

The woman is in the company of a man Narcissa recognizes as the head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement. A business meeting surely. He is about to retire in two months' time and rumour has it Hermione Granger is about to take his place, becoming the youngest Head of Department the Ministry has ever seen.

Narcissa's gaze falters when she feels her husband's hand on her's, caressing her skin, while his lips are lying sweet declarations of love. She hates his need to display affection publicly at any given chance, but this marriage is the only thing Lucius has left. Although his new business is going surprisingly well his image in the Wizarding community at large is still disastrous. The perfect image of their marriage is the only thing that keeps him from falling off the social radar completely. A marriage that exists solely on paper at this point. They barely spent time together anymore except for their weakly public outing and they stopped having sex altogether several months ago; the only positive development in her life. She became less pliable, too complicated and it was easier for him to go to a prostitute than her. Sometimes when they sit at the breakfast table in silence after one of his night's out, she wonders whether he's been with the same prostitute she's been with and it makes her chuckle into her morning tea.

She has not been in contact with Hermione since that embarrassing last meeting where she revealed too much. It confirmed her suspicion that the young woman had never had more in mind than sex and degradation. Otherwise she would have come to her to apologize. At least the witch's revenge did not go as far as contacting a certain beetle. She could not count the times she had turned the pages of the Daily Prophet with a trembling hand, afraid she might see her inner most secret revealed. Although she is glad that Hermione hasn't gone to Skeeter it surprises her. It would have been the final stab, the ultimate revenge.

The end of their affair caused a mix of conflicting emotions Narcissa couldn't quite work out. It felt like taking a step back. She certainly doesn't miss the humiliation, but she misses the bit of freedom that came along with it. And somehow she misses Hermione. It's a feeling she doesn't quite understand because they certainly never got to know each other. Sometimes she thinks she misses her for all the things she doesn't know about her and now will never have the chance to learn. Of course they saw each other every now and then in Diagon Ally and although Narcissa would never admit to it, she had been keeping up with her career within the Ministry through every article in the Prophet she could find. When their paths crossed in one of the shops of Diagon Narcissa was quick to change directions for she had no idea what to say to her. Next week though was the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts and Lucius, Draco and herself were invited. Well, Lucius wasn't precisely named, but the invitation said they were meant to bring someone and of course her husband would be her plus one. He had been going on about the celebration like a first year about his first day of school. He was anxious because he hoped to rekindle some old ties with all the Ministry officials who were going to be there. She was anxious because Hermione was obviously going to be there as well. And this time she might not be able to avoid her because of course all three members of the Golden Trio were going to be there and Mr. Potter liked to briefly chat with her when they met. Her act on that gruesome night four years ago made quite the impression on him. He likes to emphasize how she had saved his life that night. She finds him to be exaggerating. She has never liked his tendency for the dramatic. Before they part he always asks about Draco. The two boys – men – have not spoken since the war, a step they are apparently not ready to take, but Potter keeps up with his wellbeing through her which she finds both surprising and touching. She has been trying to brace herself for that obligatory little chat with Potter at the anniversary because Hermione might be with him. Now, as the witch is sitting a few tables away from her, she realizes her preparations have failed miserably. She tries to keep her eyes off her but every few minutes a magnet seems to force her to glance at the witch and whenever she does time seems to stop and it becomes difficult to breathe. She needs a break from this tension and so she excuses herself and heads for the bathroom.

Thankfully the bathroom is empty. She supports herself on the sink and releases a shaky breath. She turns the tab on and holds her hands underneath it. Palms upwards she lets the cool water run over her wrists, calming her. She jolts out of this moment when the door opens and she is standing there. Life is a fucking Mills and Boone sometimes. Hermione nods her greeting, turns to the mirror above the second sink and starts a retouch on her make-up. Every now and then the woman side eyes her with a furrowed brow, taking in her slumped posture and her wrists under the stream of water. She turns the tab off and straightens her back. She cannot stand being pitied.

"Will you be attending the annual celebration next week?", she asks. It's a stupid, redundant question because she already knows the answer but she feels the need to say something and the things she truly needs to say are unspeakable.

"I'm not exactly looking forward to it, but yes, I will be there."

Narcissa smiles for she can well imagine that big outings like that are not on the witch's top list.

As Hermione brushes through her curls she asks "You will be attending as well?"

Narcissa nods and dries her hands on the grey towel.

"With your husband?"

The question bewilders her. "Of course", she says with her most confident voice.

"Of course", Hermione repeats with a small smile. She holds her gaze for a while as if she wants to say more and Narcissa braces herself for the insult that is about to come, but it doesn't.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, Narcissa" the witch says, placing her hand on her forearm. She inhales sharply. Her skin tingles where Hermione touches her and the feeling travels through her arm into her chest, making the hair on her neck stand.

When Hermione has left she slumps back against the wall in defeat. She is in much deeper than she thought.

…

Red lips, red nails, a strapless red dress with a cut-out that is way too low and a slit that is way too high. It is about ten minutes before they have to leave, but Narcissa is still scrutinizing her appearance in the floor length mirror. Originally she thought this dress was way too risky and she doesn't really feel like drawing much attention to her at the moment. But then again, she is going to draw attention anyway, just by being who she is, so she figured she might as well go out guns blazing.

An image appears in the mirror next to her own. Lucius is tapping his fingers on his watch.

"Do I look alright?", she whispers and brushes a curl behind her ear.

"What will it take for you to realize you always look perfect?", he shakes his head.

She shrugs and tears her eyes away from the mirror. Linking arms they apparate.

Hogwarts lies before them as grand as ever. She couldn't count the times she walked towards the grand entrance door and yet she is still impressed. She loves coming back here and the memories that come along with it. They're bittersweet and yet, looking back on it, her time at Hogwarts was probably when she was the happiest.

When they approach she can already hear busy chatter emanating from the Great Hall. Many guests have already arrived. Of course, she and her husband are fashionably late. One cannot make an entrance without an audience.

"Ready?", Lucius asks and holds out his arm. She nods and lays her hand on top of his hand, letting him lead her like a puppy. Carrying her face of arrogance she is prepared for the heads that turn inevitably as they step into the Great Hall. She knows she just turned most men here into horney dogs and their wives into envious hens. Lucius doesn't waste much time and strikes up a conversation with the first Ministry official he can find and she starts to play her role as the accessory.

After about an hour of small talk she is ready for her five-minute break that she intends to spend with absolutely no one but a large glass of firewhisky. She has barely taken a zip when she sees Potter approaching her for, what she guesses, will be his obligatory thank you speech. In the background she can see Ronald Weasly sulking and eyeing her suspiciously. When will that boy grow up?

"Mrs. Malfoy, it's good to see you here", Harry Potter smiles at her and they shake hands.

"I'm glad to hear that. Although not everyone seems to agree with that" she smirks looking at Weasly who is now throwing daggers at her.

"Well, forgive him", Potter sighs,"he can be quite childish. You have every right to be here. If it weren't for your remarkable actions that night, we wouldn't even be celebrating tonight. What you did was…"

Here we go, Narcissa thinks and downs her whisky. She knows what he's going to say. It's always the same, only the wording differs.

"There you are!" a familiar female voice makes her jolt and turn her head so fast it hurts her neck. She did not see her coming for she approached them from behind, did not have time to steal herself and now her heart beats fast and her body goes rigid as the witch walks past her so close they almost touch.

"Ginny has been looking for you all over. I think you better go see her", Hermione says.

"Oh, alright. Well, it was really good to see you, Mrs. Malfoy", Potter says and shakes her hand again.

"Good to see you, too, Potter" she says and watches him walk off, for once whishing he would stay because Hermione is standing in front of her now, looking like she has no intention of leaving.

"Can I get you another one?" she asks.

Narcissa has no idea what she is referring to because the only thing she has been doing since Hermione stepped onto the scene is to stare into those deep brown eyes like she is in a daze.

The witch points to her empty glass and she understands and sees her chance to get out of this situation.

"No, thank you. I should be going back to Lucius", she says.

„That's a shame. I had hoped you would come with me for a second. There's someone I want you to meet."

Now that sparks her interest. Who could the witch possible know that she needed to meet?

"Alright then", she nods towards Hermione, asking her to lead the way.

She follows the witch out of the Great Hall. She has an uneasy feeling as she leads her up the stairs to one of the towers. Why is that person waiting somewhere out here? Or was it a lie and there is no one waiting for her? Maybe Hermione is looking for a repetition of one of their meetings and if so, Narcissa is not sure how she feels about that.

The witch notices her resistance. She turns to her. "I know you have no reason to, but please trust me. I don't mean any harm."

Narcissa nods and they continue to climb the stairs. When they step onto one of the balconies she stops dead in her tracks. It couldn't be. Hermione's hand is on the small of her back and pushes her further onto the balcony.

"When I heard that you two _knew_ each other, I simply had to invite her here as my plus one. I will be going now. Enjoy your evening", Hermione says and leaves them alone.

"Narcissa", the witch greets her and takes her hand to give her a hand kiss.

Narcissa inhales sharply. Her skin tingles where the woman's lips hover; _hover_ not touch. She knows the etiquette.

"Madeleine. Still the perfect gentleman, I see."

"Always."

As a well-trained socialite Madeleine starts some small talk and they chat meaninglessly for a while. Narcissa enquires about her time in France, her career and return to Britain. The woman though is careful enough not to ask too much of Narcissa's life since they lost contact and she is grateful for it. Madeleine can probably imagine it wasn't quite what she had hoped for when she was young.

When the easy questions and answers have been given, a silence settles that is heavy with the questions that are truly of importance. Narcissa is in no hurry to break this silence though. Never having been one to shy away from confrontation, she feels Madeleine will make the first step and tell her why she wanted to meet her. After a few zips of elven wine and shy glances hidden by the night her intuition is confirmed.

"So, is divorce a possibility?"

"Not such a gentlemen after all" Narcissa smirks.

"Forgive my bluntness, but I'd like to know if I would be wasting my time" the woman explains seriously.

"Wasting your time with what exactly?"

"Courting you."

For a second Narcissa's brain struggles to keep up with reality as this evening takes a turn she would not have foreseen in a million years.

"Is that truly what you intend to do?"

Madeleine nods. "So, is it a possibility?"

Narcissa has thought about divorce a million times, but she has never _really_ thought about it, has never seriously considered what it would mean to actually go through with it. Now she is unsure how to answer that question.

"I guess, if … the right woman came along who is worth it", is her cliché answer.

Now Madeleine turns her whole body towards her and tilts her head to the side, her short red curls jumping a little bit. "Shouldn't you be that woman?"

It seems that the witch has not lost her talent for rendering her speechless for the question implies something Narcissa rarely dares to consider.

"You don't have to answer me tonight. Take your time to think about it", Madeleine says and turns to leave.

She places her hand on her forearm. "I'll be awaiting your owl." She caresses her skin with her thumb and steps from the balcony.

Narcissa releases a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She feels hot and cold, she feels dizzy and leans on the railing to steady herself.

Thunder disturbs the silence of the night. She looks up at the star-adorned sky and sees a bright lightning bolt.

A storm is coming.

* * *

Lightspire: Looking back I actually agree. I also love being in Narcissa's head. I will try to keep the story from her point of view from now on, although that is indeed a bit difficult because she is so narrow-minded and stuck in her way of thinking. But I'll try my best.

On another note, are there any British folks on here who can confirm that people actually say "a Mills and Boone"? My dictionary suggested it, but I've never heard it before.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. No money is made from this.

 **A/N:** I'm back! Whew, I didn't even realize it's been over two months since I updated. It's crazy how time goes by so fast. I'm glad you enjoyed the unexpected turn of events in the last chapter. Let's see where we go from there.

* * *

The bird flaps its wings powerfully, purposefully, away from the big estate toward its goal. Soon it is just a small black spot in the sky marking a turning point in her life. Narcissa feels strangely calm considering what she has just done. She sent a letter to Madeleine asking her out on a date next Wednesday. It's not a typical day for a date but Lucius will be on a business trip, taking Draco along. She won't have to answer questions. This moment might be the beginning of a new life. If it is, she will have to make a lot of changes, face questions, endure arguments and lack of understanding. She tries not think about this too much right now, taking one step at the time.

Wednesday, early evening and she is getting a bit nervous. It is the good, exciting kind of nervous, though, she's looking forward to the date. If someone asked her whether there ever was a time when she was happy, she would say it was her time as a student at Hogwarts. She was happy then because she was away from home and with Madeleine. It was an innocent teenage romance. Holding hands during walks through the Forbidden Forest, kisses in the dark deserted corners of the castle, glances stolen during class. Years later she used to kick herself in the arse for the fact that they never went any further, but they were too afraid. No. That's a lie. It was Narcissa who was a coward. Too afraid of her parents, too concerned with people's opinions, too scared to leave everything behind and live a different life. Madeleine was bold, courageous even back then. So when Lucius proposed and she accepted, Madeleine called it quits, not willing to be her backdoor woman. Narcissa was completely devastated. Even years later there were still times where she would cry silently at night because she wished it was Madeleine lying next to her. Today, Narcissa no longer blames her for the decision she made. In fact, she is glad that Madeleine didn't choose the same path because now she knows what a life of lies and self-repression does to someone. She wouldn't wish that on anyone and she doesn't wish it on herself anymore. She does the final touches on her make-up.

…

They sit at a small table in an intimate corner of the restaurant where the chatter of the Muggles around them doesn't reach. A Muggle restaurant was probably the last thing Narcissa expected. She is pleasantly surprised at the thoughtfulness, though. No one knows them here, a fact that allows them to throw meaningful glances at each other all night. She's grateful for the anonymity because she is completely unable to keep her eyes off Madeleine. The witch is wearing a stunning black suit that is tailored perfectly to her feminine form, something she picked up in France where the Wizarding community is apparently a lot more forward fashion wise. Narcissa hangs on to every word of her burgundy lips in awe of the life Madeleine has lived, slightly melancholic that she didn't live it with her. She is hesitant to talk about her own life. Her sisters, her marriage to a Death Eater, her involvement in the war – most parts of her life are taboo subjects.

"Have you never thought about tossing it all out the window?", Madeleine suddenly asks.

"No, not really. At least not until recently when it started to become …" _Unbearable_ she thinks, but doesn't say it. The mere thought of the last one and a half years constricts her throat. Instead she tries to explain herself. "My upbringing prepared me to be a wife and socialite from day one and I never truly questioned it. I was afraid of social rejection, I wanted to please my parents, Lucius and once I had Draco, of course I wanted him to have a family. I guess I always put everyone else first."

"Draco is a grown man, now." Madeleine counters.

Of course, Narcissa realizes the implications this statement holds. There are no more excuses.

"You should respect yourself, Narcissa. Respect yourself enough to put yourself first for once."

"You're probably right. If it is not too late, that is", Narcissa wonders more to herself.

"I certainly don't think it is." The witch winks and Narcissa, for the first time in years, feels something akin to hopeful.

The conversation continues smoothly until Madeleine asks, "What happened between you and Granger?"

Good question. She's not exactly sure what happened between them.

"Well, we had an affair, just a fling really about a year ago. It only lasted a couple of weeks."

"And? What else?"

"What else? Nothing else happened." Narcissa is genuinely confused, wondering what makes the witch think it could have been anything else.

"Don't try to fool me", Madeleine smirks. "When I said that I'd love to go out with you, she asked me to be, and I quote, 'very gentle' with you."

The piece of steak takes the wrong path in her throat, blocking her airway, making her cough violently.

"Oh dear", Madeleine quickly refills her glass and she gratefully takes a zip.

"She did not say that." Narcissa shakes her head, patting the corner of her mouth with her napkin.

"Her words exactly", Madeleine insists. "What did she mean by that?"

"I have no idea", Narcissa says because she really hasn't. What in Merlin's name is going in that witch's head? And she does not mean the one in front of her.

After dinner they walk through the streets in darkness and silence with one question on Narcissa's mind: how should she say goodbye to her? They are obviously past the stage where you can just shake hands. She could go for a hug, but then again that usually feels too intimate to her. Or she could give her a kiss on each cheek, a gesture that is both intimate and distant at the same time. If she could, she would slap herself across the face for it is such a foolish, such a juvenile question to be concerned about and yet she wonders. It has been ages since she has been on a date. She had forgotten all the little insecurities that came along with it.

They turn around a corner and into an alley between two old deserted buildings. Not a pretty spot, but a good spot for apparition. They turn towards each other and automatically she puts her hand on Madeleine's forearm.

"Thank you for the evening, Madeleine. I had a wonderful time."

"The pleasure's all mine." The witch smiles.

They both lean in for a kiss on the cheek. A brief second and the moment comes where Narcissa should move to place a kiss on her other cheek, but she can't. My God, what kind of perfume is that? It engulfs her completely, numbs all of her senses, makes her dizzy. The feeling of Madeleine's soft skin against hers, the sound of her heartbeat so close to hers, it renders her senseless.

"How is it possible you still make me feel this way?", Naricssa whispers.

"What way would that be?", the witch wonders in the same anticipation-filled whisper.

Narcissa moves her head, their faces only inches apart and decides that for once she will take what she wants.

"This" she whispers and brushes her lips against the witch's. Madeleine pulls her close by the small of her back. She yelps as they spin, not expecting the apparition.

She finds herself flat on a sofa with Madeleine between her legs. She has enjoyed Madeleine's idea of courting so far, but now it takes an unconventional turn. "I don't think this is what Hermione meant when she asked you to be gentle", she says.

"Probably not." The witch laughs deeply, pushes her thigh to her core, making her moan. Damn her libido. "But you're just too hot not to."

Narcissa freezes, her blood running cold. This is what it's always been about, has it not? Her looks, beauty, her curves. Lovers, male or female, want to love her body, but who wants to love _her_? They all touch her body, but never her soul. It makes her so sad it hurts and she realizes she doesn't want to do this anymore, _cannot_ do this anymore. Suddenly she shivers at Madeleine's touch for the wrong reasons, so she pushes her away, gets up.

"What are you doing?", the witch asks.

"What you told me to. I'm respecting myself."

With that she leaves the house.


	8. Chapter 8

It is funny how surreal reality can be. She feels so out of her skin, out of touch with her environment right now. She's sitting at the dinner table, alone, trying to grasp what her husband just asked of her. To put it plain simple: he asked her to prostitute herself. To Barnaby Smith, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Lucius talked to him at the Anniversary celebration. It was a very successful, promising conversation apparently. He offered him promising business ties overseas under one condition: he'd have his wife.

Lucius hasn't exactly shown a great deal of caring toward her lately and she doesn't expect him to, never has, but that he would ask this of her throws her off. Such lack of respect. Whether she agrees or not shouldn't even be question she considers and yet she does. If she asked her mother for advice she would tell her to submit. It's her duty as a wife and sometimes she believes it's just in her nature, submitting herself to others, doing what is asked of her without question. If she asked her sister for advice she would immediately submit her to the mental ward of St. Mungos. It's insane, only a couple of weeks ago she would not have considered it but that was when she thought she was going to be with Madeleine again. It's not like the woman hasn't tried to get a second chance, bombarded her with apologies in all forms that Narcissa can't accept. Something got lost when Madeleine took ten steps at once and she cannot get over it. In hindsight she has also been wondering whether she was actually attracted to Madeleine or rather to what could have been. She had to admit to herself that the kiss was like a reheated meal, good, but never like the freshly cooked original. When she walked away from Madeleine she said she was going to respect herself, which should give her the answer to the question she is facing. Only she cannot find a reason anymore. She had seriously considered divorce, coming out, but now the circumstances, the prospects have changed. Of course she could still do it but for what? For a life of truth, but loneliness, without a family? The thought terrifies her – being alone – which is quite funny. She has been lonely most of her life after all, but actually being alone is another thing. She cannot find a reason to fulfill her husband's demand, only problem is she also cannot find a reason not to. The holy trinity of her life – hopelessness, lethargy, self-loathing – is consuming her once more. She's made a decision.

…

The office is large, underlining the importance of the position, the power. She has been waiting in here for a couple of minutes now. When the secretary closed the door behind her it felt like a prison door closing. She's been steeling herself though. Her face is covered in a heavy layer of make-up, her skirt and blazer a steel gray, a black veil in front of her eyes, it is all like an armour, helping to dissociate herself from the situation.

The door opens – "Mrs. Malfoy, what a pleasure" – Smith is entering the office. "I was very glad to hear we have an agreement, though I expected no less. Mr. Malfoy has been telling me you are quite …" he continues, but Narcissa doesn't take much of it in. Suddenly the reality of the situation hits her, amplifying her nervousness by tenfold. She looks him up and down. He's somewhat small for a man, about her height, but strong. One might also say overweight, his belly pressing against the restraints of his belt. She's going to have sex with this man. Oh God.

He looks at her with his questioning eyes, probably expecting an answer to some question that she didn't hear. "I see you are not one for small talk. Let's get straight to it, then", he smirks and starts to take of his jacket, undo his tie.

She tries to calm herself by taking deep slow breaths. She can do this, she tells herself. It's not like this is the first time, she knows how to get through this. Smith approaches. She takes off her gloves and suddenly he presses his lips on hers, her eyes growing wide, it's taken her by surprise. This is not the type of arrangement where she thought he would want to kiss her. They stumble backwards till her back hits the desk. His tongue roams her mouth, making her feel so invaded, sick. Clicking, the sound of his belt opening. He leads her hand to his groin. She shudders, whimpers. He pushes her down and she might vomit. No. Absolutely not. She cannot do this. "I cannot do this", she says, pushes him away.

"What do you mean you cannot do this?" His breathing is heavy, his tone aggravated. "We had an agreement."

"I've changed my mind." She puts her gloves back on.

"No, you haven't." He grabs her, throws her down, her neck collides with the rim of the desk, feeling like it is breaking. He's on her, traps her between the desk and himself. She hits him, scratches, screams, knows no one will hear her. Ministry rooms are all enchanted with a Muffliato for secrecy reasons, but she needs to do everything to make it known she does not want this. "Who the fuck do you think I am? You'll give me what I want, bitch." He forces her mouth open with his hands. Her heart beats in her throat, she knows this is it, there is no escape now. He's going to rape her. She's hyperventilating, feels the tip of his cock in her mouth and screams like she never has in her life.

"GET OFF HER!"

Smith drops her, she falls to the floor, lies there and keeps her eyes shut tight. Maybe this all just goes away if she keeps them shut.

"What do you think you're doing here?", Smith bellows. "The Malfoys and I have an agreement."

"Have you expressed your unwillingness to engage in this agreement, Mrs. Malfoy?"

She nods.

"There goes your agreement, Smith."

"Stay out of this. This is none of your business", he growls.

"I'm the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It bloody well is my business if someone is being raped in the Ministry!"

"Come on, let's get out of here." The woman picks her up, puts her arm around her and leads her out of the office.

"You can expect that I will file a law suit", the woman says to Smith as they leave.

They walk fast. She covers her mouth with her hand, trying to keep herself from sobbing violently. She keeps her eyes to the floor, knowing people are watching them. The arm around her shoulder remains strong, guiding her.

"Out! Everybody get out", the witch demands. Witches and wizards hurry out of the elevator, making room for only the two of them. A short ride, they leave the elevator and step into an office. The door closes and she breaks down. The arm still around her, Hermione pulls her towards her. She struggles, she's not used to being weak, but Hermione is persistent. "Come here, let me hold you", she says and holds her tight. One hand caressing her hair, another drawing circles on her back she calms down. She stays in the embrace even after her sobbing has subsided. No one has ever held her like this, building themselves around her like a fortress, making her body feel so heavy and her head so light. She wonders why she finds so much comfort in the other woman and wonders why Hermione is willing to give it.

She's still wobbly on her legs, the witch makes her sit down, a hand on her shoulder keeping their connection. "Thank you", Narcissa says, putting her hand over Hermione's.

"Not for that." The witch squeezes her shoulder.

"You weren't there by incident, were you?"

"No. I overheard bits and pieces of a conversation between Malfoy and Smith. When two men like that mingle nothing good can come out of it. Now when I saw you heading for the Department today – all by yourself, all dolled up – I just had a gut feeling something terrible was going on. I'm glad I arrived there in time."

"Why though? Why do you care what happens to me?" She doesn't understand it. Had Hermione just happened to be there, fine, but for her to actively come to her help? It doesn't make sense to her.

Does it even make sense to the woman herself? She sees the struggle on Hermione's face, her lips parting as if to say something but then closing again. She repeats the action a few times until she says, "You might not believe me, but I never would have wanted that to happen to you. And I am sorry. I am sorry for the way I treated you. It was terrible."

"Parts of it were", she agrees. "And other parts weren't. I'm an adult and I knew very well what I was consenting to and I _did_ consent – mostly."

"Mostly, but not entirely and I apologize for that."

She accepts the apology and makes to leave. She feels exhausted, drained and just wants to go home. What else is there to say except "Please don't file a law suit. I don't want it. The hearing, the public attention, I cannot go through that."

"I'm sorry, but I have to. Even if I didn't want to, from a professional point I'm obligated to file a law suit when I know of a crime. That aside, it is time you start to stand up for yourself."

Hasn't she heard the same from another woman not too long ago? Briefly she wonders whether Madeleine and Hermione have made a secret pact. Or maybe this is the universe setting the path for her.

"And", Hermione adds, "if you can't see it through on your own, I will help you."

If Narcissa hadn't been brought up to be so in control, her face would betray her emotions right now. She cannot possibly suggest to stand by her side through this, can she? People usually don't offer that sort of support to her and she doesn't know how to respond to it, so she says the next best thing on her mind.

"Lucius will be furious that I broke my promise."

"If you think you won't be safe at home, you shouldn't go. Can you stay anywhere else?"

It takes a few seconds before the idea comes to her. "I can, possibly. My sister's." It is strange to say. She has never considered asking someone for help, most certainly not the long lost sister, but knowing Andromeda, she will probably open her home to her in the blink of an eye.

"Good, promise me you'll go there? Right now?", Hermione demands.

"Yes, of course", is the rushed answer. She is both touched and bewildered by the display of care. She turns to leave, not knowing how to navigate the situation anymore. This day has thrown too much at her.

"Narcissa?" She stops dead in her tracks, chills running down her spine from hearing her name on the woman's lips. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

The thought crosses her mind within seconds. It is ridiculous, insane really, but who knows when an opportunity like this will present itself again. And so holding her breath she says, "Perhaps you could take me out on a date, a _proper_ date. Would you?"

"Yes, I would."

Narcissa releases her breath and leaves, taking the woman's promises with her.

* * *

 **A/N:** So Hermione is back in the game! Will she be enough of a gentlewoman for Narcissa? We'll find out in the next chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Muscles tense as can be she rolls her neck in hope to release the tension, but – "Ah" – a hiss, her face contorts. The rare display of pain earning her a concerned look from the big sister who gently begins to massage the salve into her skin. The hand stops momentarily and Narcissa knows she has noticed the bruise. There would have been no use in trying to hide it, an angry purple-blue mark across her neck in plain sight that she knows sparks suspicions and questions that her sister is considerate enough not to ask. Just like she didn't ask questions when Narcissa showed up at her door tonight. They will talk, she knows, but for now she closes her eyes in the comfort of knowing her sister is there for her.

Andromeda doesn't last long. She gives Narcissa exactly one cup of breakfast tea and three bites of scrambled eggs before wanting to know what happened. She does not feel like telling because she has no words. Andromeda, though, has a way of asking gently and yet demanding that makes her give in still. And so she tells and the sister tries hard just to listen without voicing her anger or leaving to hex another blonde into oblivion. When the story is told Andromeda makes to speak, but she cuts her off with a shake of her head. She doesn't need to hear for she knows everything her sister has to say on this, but Andromeda cannot help herself. "This needs to stop, Cissy. Right now." She squeezes her hand, a supporting, but pressuring gesture.

"I know." It's just a breath.

"You won't be going back", Andromeda states, knowing of Narcissa's wavering nature.

There's no need to respond to that, the warning clear in the other's voice. She knows she won't be going back, only over her sister's dead body. Andromeda has been very patient for the last year, watching her take one step forward and two back, but this is the end of her patience. Narcissa doesn't even want to go back this time. Never has she been so grateful for her sister's existence. She would not know where to go if it weren't for her.

"What can I do? What do you need, sister?"

Andromeda, so straight to the point, so opposite to her. What does she need? A lawyer probably. She can't call the family lawyer, he will side with Lucius. She might ask Hermione, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has to know the best of the best. First though, she needs help with something much more simple.

"I need to choose a dress."

"Excuse me? You're worried about a dress right now?"

"Well, I have a date this weekend", she says, cheeks blushing as if she was a teenager. "With Hermione."

Self-satisfied Andromeda leans back, sipping on her coffee. "I knew it", she smirks and Narcissa rolls her eyes.

…

The image in the mirror leaves her insecure. She decided on a blue dress. Well, Andromeda decided. The dress is a rich sapphire blue, tight, clinging to her curves. Narcissa had wanted something more daring that shows some cleavage, in red maybe, but her sister insisted she didn't need all that. Maybe she is right and Narcissa should stop relaying on her body so much. She does really like Hermione and wants the woman to like her for more than her looks. She did, however, insist on her signature red lipstick. That is just a must.

"Cissy?" Andromeda is poking her head through the door. "She's here."

Oh God. Here we go. There is this fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach as she descends the stairs. That feeling where she can never quite figure out whether it is a comfortable or uncomfortable kind of nervousness.

She feels Andromeda hot on her heels. "What are you doing?" She turns around, her sister crashing into her.

"What do you mean? I'm going back downstairs."

"Oh no, you're not. I won't have you lurking in the background like mommy while we leave."

"Oh, someone's nervous." Andromeda's eyes sparkle with joy.

"Oh screw you, Andy", she hisses.

"Language, young lady!" Andromeda does a perfect impression of their mother, making herself and Narcissa laugh. Andromeda kisses her on the cheek before she heads back upstairs.

She didn't think she could get more nervous, but the feeling does intensify as she sees Hermione standing in the living room.

"Good evening, beautiful" the witch greets her and Narcisssa's heart jumps at the endearment and she realizes that she does not know how to navigate this situation, does not know what to say except for a whispered _hello_. This is so different from their previous encounters. She really hopes Hermione knows what she's doing because she has no idea.

"Ready for a little trip?", the witch holds out her hand and Narcissa takes it with a smile. They spin, twirl and when they stop she feels herself sinking, almost stumbling. She looks down to see her feet stuck heel-deep in sand.

"I'm sorry, I should've told you to wear different shoes", Hermione laughs and wiggles her own feet that are dressed in sandals. "Hold on?" She offers her arm and Narcissa gladly accepts the support.

She stumbles along on Hermione's arm, enjoying the warm breeze against her skin. She takes in the scenery, the waves of the ocean hitting the shore softly, the evening sun painting the sky in magenta and orange. "Where are we? What is this place?" she wonders.

"We're in Spain. It's our old vacation home", Hermione says and points toward a little cabin. "My parents and I used to come here every year for the summer holidays.

She's never been to Spain before. "My family always went to France, of course. We have several estates in the south of France near the coast, but they have been deserted for ages." Which is a shame, really. They're magnificent. Maybe she should pay them a visit again. She could certainly do with a vacation. To her surprise they pass the cabin. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise!"

Oh, she dislikes surprises, just because it makes her very nervous not to know what's awaiting her and so far this doesn't seem to go like your average date. She certainly didn't expect to travel to the Grangers' old vacation destiny.

"Give me a hint at least!", she pleads.

"Ah ah, good things come for girls who wait" Hermione winks at her and she giggles, the playful banter making her feel carefree.

They follow the shore until they reach the cliffs, the waves clashing rather softly against them. Hermione takes off her shoes and she follows suit. They enter the water and the witch leads her carefully around the cliffs, watchful not hit any stones underwater. She is fine with this, enjoys the water on her skin until Hermione rounds a corner and stops.

"Ready to go high?", she asks and looks upwards.

Narcissa's face reads _You've got to be kidding me_ , Hermione only smiles smugly. She looks down at herself, her attire. Oh this is just perfect, but she will not be a spoilsport today. "So, what do I do?", she asks and Hermione seems pleasantly surprised by her eagerness.

"See those?" The witch points towards a couple of sharp edges that stick out of the wall of cliffs, holes not too far underneath every edge as if they had been carved into the wall by someone. "They appear in regular intervals. We can use them as a ladder."

Great. This is just getting better by the minute.

"Ladies first", Hermione gestures for her to go first. She has to pull up her dress if she ought to have any chance at getting up there and so she pulls her dress up to her thighs, just a bit under the rim of her stockings, throws her heels into the water and starts the climb. It goes quite well and though it is demanding, it is not as exhausting as she feared. It's as if this is meant for someone to climb. Hermione is hot on her heels, she feels her eyes on her constantly.

"Eyes to the wall, Miss Granger."

"You're not making it easy", the woman laughs. Narcissa's dress rides up every time she puts her feet into another hole, revealing the rim of her stockings. They seem to be climbing forever, she dare not look down at this point for they have to be quite high. When she looks up, though, she can see the wall ending in a projection. She musters up her last strength and pulls herself onto it. She's facing a wall that is, without a doubt, of magical nature. She can feel the magic radiating from it. Hermione settles next to her, takes her hand and presses it to a rough triangular shaped piece in the middle. The magic tickles her fingers, travels through her hand all the way up her arm, making her shudder. The wall dissolves, leaving a small entrance through which they crawl. Once inside the small entrance opens up into a vast cave.

She falters at what is the most beautiful sight she has ever seen. Gorgeous little creatures are buzzing all around them. This cave hidden inside the cliffs is home to hundreds of fairies. They paint the cave in light shimmery pink. Awestruck she spins, taking in all of these wondrous beings until one sets her eyes on her. Blinking rapidly it moves towards her. The tiny creature, hovering mid-air, snaps her tiny fingers and the tight bun, that Narcissa created carfully, comes down. Her hair falling around her face in waves, the fairy grabs a strand, twists it around her fingers. Her skin tingles, her heart pumps blood through her veins with such force.

"It's beautiful", Hermione reckons, standing close behind her and Narcissa isn't sure whom she is referring to. "The common fairy is a rather dull creature. Incredibly beautiful but with very low magical force. These however are …"

"Mountain fairies", she finishes the sentence. "Their stronger magical abilities allow them to build caves. In contrast to the common fairy who lives in the woods, they prefer mountains or cliffs as their home due to their shy nature, keeping away from the Wizarding community, which is why they are not well studied." She catches Hermione's surprised look from the corner of her eye. "Yes, I paid attention in school", she says smugly.

"I never thought you didn't."

"Yes, you did" she responds as she sits down on a little rock. "You thought I was a weak good-for nothing doll who was never interested in education because I was going to be a wife and mother anyway." Hermione's dumbfounded expression tells her she was right.

"I apologize. I didn't mean to offend you", the woman says, cheeks blushing as she sits down next to her. She takes no offense, knowing very well how most people, who don't know her well, perceive her.

"I admit I might have underestimated your academic efforts. I did not, however, think you were weak", Hermione continues as she pulls out a picnic basket from behind the rock and starts to lay out a variety of delicacies and wines in front of them. "You lied to Voldemort when it probably mattered the most. That takes strength, courage."

The compliment is nice, but she refuses it. "You give me too much credit. I only did it for …"

"Draco. I know", Hermione interrupts her. "Harry told me and it's understandable. Doesn't make it less brave. Brave in a very Slytherin way."

"The Sorting Hat definitely got that right. You would have just outright fought him and his horde of Death Eaters, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would have, I'm a foolishly brave Gryffindor!", Hermione confirms proudly and Narcissa laughs out loud.

"You're beautiful when you laugh, but of course you know that", Hermione says, regarding her intensely, which makes her laughter die in her throat. No, actually she doesn't know that, no one has ever told her. Hermione's gaze makes her heartbeat skip and she feels she could fall straight into those eyes. She has to ground herself.

"How did you discover this place?", she asks.

"Well, back then I would have said it was by accident, now I would say it was destiny. I was eight years old. It was very early in the morning, the sun hadn't even risen, but I couldn't sleep anymore. So I got up and snuck outside while my parents were still sleeping. I was wandering along the cliffs here, playing in the water when the idea popped into my head to try and climb up the cliffs. It was completely insane of course, but as a child I didn't think much about what could happen, I just felt the need to go up there. When I reached that wall I felt the magic immediately. Obviously I didn't know it was magic then. I just felt so drawn to it and I put my hand to the triangle as if by instinct, the wall gave away and I discovered this beautiful place full I creatures I didn't believe existed. The same day I brought my Dad up here, after much convincing. I wanted to show him what I'd found, but …" Hermione's expression darkened. "Well, nothing happened. He got quite angry, thought I'd played a joke on him. It all only made sense when my Hogwarts letter arrived."

Narcissa is speechless. She realizes Hermione just told her about the first time she experienced magic. She can only imagine it must have been a life changing moment for the Muggleborn. This is anything but what she anticipated for the date. A nice dinner in a five-star restaurant, a dance afterwards maybe but this? This is so personal. The intimacy of it knocks her out. It is exactly what she wanted and now it overwhelms her. _What are you doing? Please, don't play me_ she wants to say, but isn't able to breathe a word.

"I never spoke of it again, but I came here every night when we were on holiday. I felt so comfortable here. It's also a great place to watch the stars. See, over there", Hermione takes her hand and leads her over to a little whole in the wall of the cave. The witch steps up behind her, too close for comfort, which leaves her no choice but to press herself right up against the wall. The view is incredible indeed. She studies the bright stars that adorn the sky until her eyes stop at Orion.

"Do you miss her?"

Bellatrix.

That is a tricky question, especially coming from her. You shouldn't start a relationship on lies, though, should you? She's done that too many times.

"I know I should not", she says. "It is wrong."

"It's human."

 _Human_. She equals being human with being weak, with conflicting emotions that make no sense to her.

"I miss parts of her", she confesses, "at the same time I feel sort of relieved. I loved her, but she also terrified me. I would be in quite some trouble if she knew I was currently breaking every rule I grew up with."

"I quite like you being a bad girl." Hermione's voice sounds low in her ear and when she turns she finds her face only inches away from her's. Chills run down her spine as they stare into each other's eyes. "It is quite late already." She immediately kicks herself in the arse for she just ruined the moment, but she can barely stand the tension between them.

"You're right. I have to be at work pretty early tomorrow. Let's call it a night then." Hermione takes her hand and the familiar tugging feeling spreads in her stomach. Seconds later her back collides with Andromeda's front door.

"Spot on, Miss Granger."

"You didn't think I would make you climb down that mountain again, did you? So, did the date live up to your expectations?"

"Very much so", she says, her voice quavering from uncertainty. Would they part ways after tonight? Is this an end or a beginning? While Narcissa fumbles for her wand to undo the enchantments on the door, Hermione says "Is there anything else I can do for you? Last chance." Her tone is playful, but Narcissa takes the offer literally.

"There is." She closes her eyes, because she doesn't want to see Hermione's reaction to her demand. "Kiss me."

Seconds feel like hours, amplifying her anxiety, turning her into an insecure girl. She gasps as she feels fingers on her cheek. They draw patterns, ghosting over her skin like feathers. And then Hermione's lips are on hers and she can't breathe, she can't think as she's melting into the kiss. Time stands still as she cannot suppress the true nature of her feelings any longer. When she opens her eyes again, she looks into a face with blushing cheeks and wide hazel eyes full of surprise. It seems the kiss shook the other woman just as much. Hermione disapparates quickly with a murmured _goodbye_ , leaving her with a yearning deep in her soul and body. She is glad Hermione left before they could end up in bed together again. She's not ready for it because the kiss told her that next time it will be different. The next time they have sex – _if_ they have sex – they will make love to each other.

* * *

 **AN:** So, that was the first official date! I'm a bit nervous about it cause I've always had difficulties writing normal dates. I either make it cheesy or I have them have sex immediately lol So tell me what you think about it!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

 **A/N:** Hello, beautiful people! I was glad to see that you liked the last chapter so much and didn't think it was too cheesy. I hope I'll be able to incorporate more cute moments for our ladies in the future.

I'm sorry that this chapter is on the shorter side, but I didn't have the nerve and patience to cram everything I planned into one chapter. On the flip side that means that the next chapter shouldn't take too long ;)

Side note: I'm reposting this chapter because I wrote "trail" instead of "trial" in the first half of it and now that I know the mistake is there it drives me crazy. Thanks to MilandaAnza for noticing! I'm sorry if you got two e-mails now.

* * *

On Monday she poured her heart out. It was the easiest and yet most difficult letter she ever wrote. It started off tame. She thanked Hermione for the wonderful date, enquired how she was doing, how work was, the usual courtesy, but oh then. Then she ran out of mundane things to say and her heart took over the quill in her hand. In the end she confessed that she had fallen for her. Yes, she, Narcissa Malfoy – the known ice queen – told someone she had fallen for them. It is the one thing not to do within these first uncertain weeks of dating and yet she did it. Hermione broke a wall down that night, gave her a taste of what life could be like with her and now, she cannot seem to wait any longer.

Every day she has been expecting a response to her letter. What she got was an official Ministry letter informing her about the time and place of the court hearing against Smith. Hermione sent a note with it, asking to meet in order to prepare for the trial. She has tried so hard to blend out the incident. Just thinking about the trial makes her feel ill, but it is on the horizon and she better be prepared. What only makes it worse is the second letter lying in front of her. It arrived already a couple of days ago. It was from Lucius and to be frank it wasn't exactly a letter, it was a howler. It screamed at her to return to the Manor at once where they would talk about her behavior. A howler. She doesn't know whether to be amused or angry. You send howlers to children, at best, not to a grown woman, your _wife_. It says clearly what he thinks of her. She hasn't returned, of course, but she considers talking to him. She will file for divorce. She actually found a lawyer, met with her and ordered all the papers to be sent out next week. She feels obligated to tell him in person beforehand. Andromeda told her she doesn't owe him shit – her words – but she feels it is only appropriate after thirty seven years of marriage. And apart from his deal with Smith he never disrespected her. Did he ever love her? She isn't sure. He certainly wasn't a caring and concerned husband, but she doesn't hold it against him. Love is not what pureblood marriages are about and they both knew that going into it. Nevertheless they have always had respect for each other – excluding the last year – and that is how she wants to end this; respectful.

…

She counts the seconds, eyes locked on the door, waiting for it to open. She's sitting on a small leather sofa in Hermione's office, anxiously expecting her arrival. Funnily enough it's not only and primarily the conversation about the upcoming trial that is making her nervous. This is the first time they will see each other after the date. She was sure she was going to get a positive response to her letter, but the woman left her hanging and now she feels insecure all over again. She has never been so honest about her feelings and she fears she might have been just a bit too honest too soon, scaring the witch off.

When Hermione finally enters, she takes a shuddered breath. My God she missed her. She hadn't even realized how much until this moment. It takes some will power to remain seated and not get up to embrace the witch, but Hermione dampens her spirits anyway. She is all business.

"I apologize I'm late, crazy schedule today. So, let's get right into it." Hermione opens up a large file on her lap. "As you know the trial is in three weeks which doesn't leave us much time to prepare or me I should say; you don't really have much to prepare for."

Narcissa tsked. "I don't? I feel like I have a war to prepare for and no idea how to do that."

"Well, if everything goes as I hope and assume it will, you won't have to testify as to the actual course of events."

"What? How come?"

"See, the person who will be asked to testify first will be Smith and his lawyer has signaled that he _will_ testify and plead guilty."

"And you believe that? Why would he plead guilty?", she asks bewildered.

"Because this trial is already a lost case on his part. For one, not only am I your defence, but also your witness. Smith is an old bastard that is well known for corruption, only so far no one was brave enough to file a law suit against him, but I am. I am the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, the Golden Girl, the Brains, war hero. Who do you think they're going to believe? I'd say it'll be me. On top of that, as Head of Department you usually don't take on cases anymore; only the big, prestigious ones at best. So the fact that I'm defending you is a statement in itself. So really, all Smith and his lawyer can do is to try and lessen his sentence and pleading guilty will certainly do that."

Although it sounds that things might turn out in her favor, she sighs. "This case will attract a lot of public attention, won't it?"

"I'm afraid it will", Hermione agrees. "You are a high profile person, so is Smith and so am I. There is no way we can keep this out of the press. I'm sorry."

"Thank you, though, for doing this. With all the work you have to do, now you have to worry about this on top of everything."

"Oh, don't even think about it", Hermione dismisses with a wave of her hand. "It's my pleasure, really. I can't wait to see him go down. Now coming back to the actual hearing, the judge will of course give you the chance to testify as well and if Smith does give an accurate account of the incident, all you would have to do is agree. The judge might still ask you questions as to why you agreed to this deal in the first place, why you changed your mind and how you've been coping since the incident. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes, of course". Though it is no like it matters whether she can or cannot do that, she will just have to. She feels relieved, however, that she will not have to give a detailed account, say the actual words. That's so difficult. Even Andromeda only knows the general course of events, it was all she could tell.

"Do you have any questions?"

"No, but I need your opinion on a colleague of yours. Do you know Sandra Bernstein? I hired her. I'm filing for divorce."

"You are? Good for you. And yes, I know her. She's tough, excellent in her field. Good choice." Hermione is back with her head in her documents and Narcissa is rather disappointed. She had hoped for more of a reaction to her getting divorced. The woman has been distant the entire time and she wonders why.

"Hermione, look at me. What's going on?"

Hermione does look at her, confused, and suddenly Narcissa fears she will not like how this meeting might end.

"I assume you received my letter, have you not?", she asks.

"I have." Hermione looks away from her again.

Narcissa can tell she doesn't want to discuss this, but she has to know. They have been playing games for too long and now that her heart is in it, she cannot risk losing. "You did not respond, though. Tell me, did I misinterpret things? Was I actually naïve enough to take a courteous gesture for something more?"

The woman tilts her head down, twisting the quill in her hand.

Understanding hits her brutally. "Well. That's that." She gets up, but the woman grabs her wrist strongly, almost painfully, forcing her back down. The grip relaxes and turns into a soft caress. Her heart drops as Hermione takes her hand to kiss it, kisses every finger and whispers _I'm sorry_ against them. Then she leaves and Narcissa is left trembling on the inside. Good God, what a mindfuck this is.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Hey guys! I've been writing like crazy these past days because I really wanted to get this chapter out this weekend. Why? Well, I don't know if you've heard, but Germany, my home country, passed same-sex marriage on Friday! I am beyond excited and happy and just totally over the moon because I didn't really see this coming for another couple of years. Civil partnerships have been introduced in 2001. They have been granted more and more rights over the years, but were not made equal to marriages. We've been having the discussion on the "marriage for all", as we call it, for 16 (!) years until even the conservative party had no argument left other than "I don't like it." (Which isn't even argument, but just personal taste.) This week the social-democratic, green and left party got the ball rolling, completely out of the blue, and now it's here. Marriage equality is here! What better way to celebrate it than with another chapter about our beautiful ladies. Enjoy!

* * *

It is silent. Silence can be so calming, head-clearing, but the silence that resides in this house is loud and hostile. The air smells old and heavy of confinement, congesting her lungs with a sense of duty that weighed her down for decades. She clicks her neck. And her heels click on the marmor. "Draco?" She has been hoping he might be here.

"He isn't here." Lucius throws a newspaper on the coffee table. _Perverted Greed. Malfoy gives wife up for prostitution. Trial set in two weeks_ it reads. "He hasn't been here for weeks", he says. _And it's your fault_ he means. She knows he's wrong, but it stings nevertheless. Draco has been silent for weeks indeed. It is understandable he would struggle with this situation, but his silence worries her for, to be frank, mostly selfish reasons. She's afraid she will lose him, not necessarily over the Smith trial, but over the divorce. It is she who is breaking up his family after all. She will have to talk to him before Lucius does. Andy said she'd seen him a couple of times in Diagon Alley, stepping into the Golden Dragon, suspecting he's staying there. The thought occurs to her to try her luck later today and see if she can find him there.

"I'm being charged, as well, for bribery." He scoffs.

"I did not know that." It didn't even occur to her Lucius could be charged as well. She is genuinely surprised and feels a bit guilty. Count the divorce on top of everything and Lucius will be done and in contrast to what one might think, it is not what she wants, but she doesn't know how to avoid it either. "I did not file for a law suit. I had no choice."

"Yes, I am aware of what happened. That goddamn mudblood can't even keep her righteous nose out of her enemies' business. Pathetic."

Finger twitching, she stiffens at the insult toward Hermione. "If it is anyone's fault it is mine. I agreed and then I broke my promise."

"Indeed. You've ruined a great deal for me, but what's done is done. At least you've come to your senses, now and returned. We need to show the public that we stand together now more than ever."

"I am afraid I have to disappoint you again." She inhales slowly before she says "I have filed for divorce."

For the first time today Lucius truly looks at her. "Is this supposed to be joke?" His eyes search her's for the lie he hopes to find, but there's only truth in them. She is serious and he realizes it. "You _cannot_ file for divorce, Narcissa." She understands perfectly what he means. They are purebloods and purebloods simply don't file for divorce. In contrast to him, though, she also understands that times have changed.

"Our traditions, our _blood_ is worthless in this new world, Lucius. I won't bind myself to a system that no longer serves me in any way."

He scoffs. "Does my money not serve you? Does it not pay for the woman you are so desperate to portray?" He looks her up and down. Gesturing at the luxurious room around them he says, "You cannot live without this, Narcissa."

So this is the one argument he thinks will make her stay. It's almost sad how much they've drifted apart, how little he knows her these days. "Whether I can or cannot is irrelevant because I will never have to. I am a Black. I am more than wealthy on my own." It is true. Even divided by three the Black fortune would have been enough to live on, but as it is, she is the sole heiress and Lucius knows. She sees it in his eyes, the fear that he has nothing that can make her stay. He eases himself into his armchair. "And what about this family? What about _us_ as a couple?"

Her stomach drops. She sincerely hoped he wouldn't bring emotions into this. She wonders whether he is sincere or trying to blackmail her. "I did what was expected of me. We formed a great, powerful union to thrive in this society, but this union has not the powerful meaning it used to have and that was the only thing it was ever about. We both know that, Lucius."

He turns his gaze from her, looking out of the window. A few times he makes to speak. He doesn't need to speak, though, for her to know the question on his mind. _Do you love me? Did you ever?_ They never discussed this neither before they got married nor during the course of their marriage because it was irrelevant whether they did or not. He gets up and walks toward her. His close presence feels strange to her after such a long time. "I realize I might not have shown you how much I appreciate you", he says, taking her hands in his.

She feels sick. She did not think he truly did appreciate her, did not think he actually _loved_ … No. It can't be.

"It's how I was raised. I know I have been distant, especially in the past years. They have been very difficult for me and I apologize if I took it out on you. I've lost myself ever since the war, but I do know that I don't want to lose you, Narcissa." He caresses her cheek, cups it.

Her mouth runs dry. This is completed unexpected. He leans into her. She has barely said no to him, but it's now or never. She puts her hand on his chest to stop him. "I really cannot do this anymore", she says.

He withdraws from her, disbelief on his face. "Is it because of the deal with Smith? If it is, I am profoundly sorry."

"It's not because of that", she shakes her head. "This would have ended either way. I am so sorry, Lucius." She turns away from him and heads for the door. She needs to leave. She wasn't prepared to see him hurting over this.

"Narcissa?"

She stops at the door, the handle pressed down.

"Is there someone else?"

She takes too long to answer. Something shatters against the wall. She leaves.

…

The sight is pitiful, hurtful even. Draco is sitting at a table in the Leaky Cauldron alone except for a bottle of firewhisky. Her heels click as she approaches him, but he doesn't notice her. Only when she sits down does he look up from his glass. She sees hopelessness and disorientation in his eyes and cannot help, but apologize. He wonders for what.

"For breaking up your family."

"So you will not return to father?"

"No. I filed for divorce. I just spoke to Lucius." He only nods. The feeling that nothing matters anymore is only too familiar to her, but it kills her to see it in him. "I am so sorry, my dragon." Slowly she reaches for his hand, squeezes it. He looks at her surprised. Her son is taken aback that she comforts him. What a cold, distant mother has she been?

"You have nothing to apologize for. I'm mad at father, not you. I read the papers."

A shiver runs through her. This is what he believes to be the reason for their divorce. Of course it is. Why would he think otherwise? She cannot let him continue to believe that. She has to start being honest with the people in her life, her son most of all. Lucius already knows there is someone else in her life and he will not hesitate to use it against her to pull Draco on his side. It's better he hears the whole truth from her. "We need to talk, Draco." She holds his hand tighter.

"It's fine, mother", he shakes his head. "I understand why you left."

"No, you don't." She swallows. "What Lucius asked of me was terrible, but I would have left either way and you deserve to know why. You deserve to know me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Not here, Draco. Let's talk somewhere more private." He agrees. They throw a couple of galleons on the table and leave the Cauldron. She has Andy's place in mind. At least she feels safe there. She takes his hand and apparates them into the living room. They arrive and he withdraws his hand from her's, a sense of foreboding spreading.

"Is this where you have been living?"

"Yes, it's Andromeda's house."

"I know. I've been here once."

Right, she forgot about that. "Would you like some tea, Draco? I think I should make some tea." She heads over to the kitchen and gets the kettle and two cups out. They clink from her shaking hands. Is she really doing this? Is she really coming out to her son?

"Mum." He puts a hand on her forearm. "Forget the tea. Let's sit down and talk."

Draco sits down on the couch and she takes the chair opposite him. "It seems like we need something else for this conversation." From the inside of his jacket he pulls out a small bottle of firewhisky.

"Are you carrying alcohol around with you, Draco?", she asks exasperated. What has her son been going through and how did she miss it?

"Tough times require tough means." He takes a sip and then hands the bottle to her.

She decides he's right and takes a sip as well. Draco looks at her with expectation and she realizes this conversation will not go the way the one with Andromeda did. He won't help her by asking gentle questions. She is the adult here. "I did not think I would ever have this conversation with you because I never thought I would come forward with this issue anyway. I have been suppressing something my entire life and I, well, I just cannot anymore." He still has this expectant look on his face. It makes her heart race. She thinks of ways to form the right words to ease him into this, but concludes that there is no way around the straight forward truth. She in hales and looks away from him. "I'm a lesbian." She holds her breath, waiting for Draco to react, but there's nothing and she feels frozen in time. When she looks at him she sees a stern expression, his brows furrowed. They cannot hold each other's gaze and he reaches for the firewhisky.

They are silent for a while until Draco says, "So Andromeda was right."

"What do you mean?"

"She said you didn't love father when I came to get her that night."

Oh God. If her sister was here right now, she would slap her. How can you say something like that to a child?

"I wasn't aware she said that. Though she did not know, then."

His fingers twitch around the bottle, the lines in his face deepen. He's getting angry, she sees.

"And since when have _you_ known?", he asks.

For a moment she considers lying to him. It would be so easy to tell a little story of how she recently met someone who made her see the light, but Draco isn't stupid. She can see he already knows the answer, wants her to confirm and so she says "Always."

He slams the bottle down on the table, gets up and heads for the door without looking back at her. Her chest tightens, fear rises. "Draco", she breathes. "Draco, wait!" She grabs him by his arm, stops him. "Let us talk about this, please. Whatever questions you have, I'll answer them."

"Let me go." His tone is the coldest she's ever heard and she lets go of him.

Time seems to stand still as she watches him opening the front door. "Please don't leave, Draco." Her throat constricts, she can barely speak. "Draco, please", she croaks, but he just shuts the door behind him. And she breaks down.

…

„It's gonna be okay, baby." Andy is stroking her hair like she used to when they were kids. Narcissa is lying in the tub, lines of dried tears visible on her cheeks. The water has long gone cold. That's how Andromeda found her when she came home.

"Stop fretting over me, Andy. I'm not a child." She pushes her sister's hand away.

"It's ok to accept comfort, you know? And it's ok to cry, Cissy."

"I am _not_ crying", she insists, voice cracking, lips trembling.

"Draco will come around. You just shattered the image he had of his family. Give him some time."

Andy might be right. She had hoped they would really talk today, talk it all out, but she probably expected too much of him. She is just so afraid to lose her son. And for what? For a woman who keeps her at a distance, who pushes her away the very moment she pours her heart out.

"I'm just so stupid, Andy. I'm so stupid to think she could actually love me. _Me_."

"Stop putting yourself down, for Christ's sake. You're not stupid and I believe Hermione does have feelings for you."

"She didn't say anything to my letter, Andy. _Nothing_." She leans back in the tub, exhausted.

"Still. This doesn't make sense. What she did on that date, you don't do that just to be kind to someone you don't have feelings for. You and her, it's not the easiest constellation. She might have some reservations of her own. Don't give up now."

"Whatever." She closes her eyes and the topic with it. Her nerves are too fragile tonight to discuss this any further. Andromeda leaves her alone and goes to bed. She dives into the water, holds her breath until her lungs burn, strain, protest at the lack of oxygen. She comes up, panting, gasping for air.

Oh hell, someone's knocking on the door relentlessly. She doesn't want to deal with anyone anymore today, but they will wake up Andy, if they keep going like this. She gets out of the tub, throws a bathrobe on. Her wet hair leaves a trail of drops on the floor as she heads downstairs. She opens the door without second thought and …

"Hermione."

She takes in the woman's disheveled appearance. Her hair is bushier than usual, face expressionless, eyes unfocused. "Have you been drinking?", she wonders as the woman walks past her inside, keeping her back toward her.

"Just a shot. Whatever. Listen, Narcissa, I want to apologize for my behavior. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm just …"

"Stop this. Stop ignoring me."

Hermione looks at her and Narcissa can see her crumbling. "Fuck it." Hermione grabs her by her waist and neck and kisses her, hard. It's the long, lingering kind of kiss. They grab at each other, stumble until her back hits the kitchen table and Hermione hoists her up. She gasps as her bathrobe comes apart; Hermione takes the chance to slip her tongue in. She wraps her legs around her, pulling her inhumanly close, the faint throbbing in her core about to eliminate the last ounce of sense in her. "Let's take this upstairs", she manages before it's too late. She doesn't need to be walked in on by her sister.

She leans against the closed door of her bedroom, watches with anticipation as Hermione takes her shirt off, undoes her pants, they gather in a pool around her feet. The brunette pulls her close by her robe and they fall into the bed. Hermione settles between her legs. Her breath comes in short, she needs her badly, but she doesn't want this to be about her. It has always been about her. This time she wants to be the one to give. They fight for dominance, kiss, lick, bite, turn until Narcissa pins the witch to the bed. She straddles her, wetness dripping onto the hot skin beneath her. Hesitantly she undoes the front hook of Hermione's braw. Patiently the woman lets her take in the miracle beneath her. _Beautiful_. "So beautiful", she whispers, rosy nipples peak to attention under her touch. She wraps her mouth around one while her hand takes care of the other. The witch squirms beneath her, patience running short, Hermione pushes her further down her body. She's insecure, she's never done this before. Heart beating in her throat, she starts to use her tongue on her. When she elicits the first sound, she relaxes. Her own pleasure grows in proportion to Hermione's and she reaches down to touch herself.

"Oh fucking hell, woman."

Narcissa remembers there's a mirror behind them. She spreads herself, teases her own opening and slides two fingers inside of herself.

"Good God." Hermione grabs her hair, grinds her hips against her face. Narcissa smiles at how the witch manages to stay on top even when she's on bottom. She almost rips her hair out, clutches her head between her thighs as she quivers and Narcissa moans with her when she comes. Who knew giving could be so rewarding? "Was that good?, she can't help but ask.

Hermione laughs. "More than good. You are quite the natural."

Thank God. She leans back satisfied with herself.

"What do you think you're doing, Miss? We're not done, yet. Spread your legs." Hermione gets on top of her. "Wider", she demands in between kisses.

She jolts up when their cores connect. They move in union, clutch at each other, scratch. "Oh God" she breathes into her neck. It's an utterance out of more than physical pleasure. As the pleasure in her body grows, something else does too. Something that makes her eyes water, something that makes her want to melt into the other woman as they come. They turn on their sides, not letting go of each other. They stare in each other's eyes, Hermione's playing with her hair.

"You scare the shit out of me", the witch confesses.

" _I_ am scaring _you_?" Narcissa is more than surprised. Hermione definitely scares her in a way. She never thought it could go both ways. "What is it? Is it my name? My involvement in the war?"

"It would certainly cause a lot of talk, maybe even trouble if people knew who I was with, but I don't care much for the public opinion on my life." Hermione takes her hand and kisses it. Narcissa can see that she struggles to find the right words. It takes a while before Hermione whispers, "What scares me is the way you make feel. I don't really do relationships."

Narcissa can't help but laugh. That is such a pureblood thing to say, because by extension it means _I don't do love_. "Have you never been in love?", she asks.

"I have, but in the end she chose someone else over me and I wasted years of my life. Ever since it's only been one-night stands and flings for me."

Who would have thought the always confident Hermione Granger was afraid of getting her feelings hurt? "If it is any help, there is no one else in my life", Narcissa says. The witch smiles sincerely at that. "And I am … well, I am not in the prime of my life, either. I have wasted a lot of years. I don't intend to waste even more on a relationship I'm not serious about." Hermione nods in understanding. She leaves it at that for tonight. She doesn't want to pressure her too much.

When Hermione gets up a while later, she can't help the fear that rises. It must show on her face because before the woman walks out the door she says, "I'm just going to the bathroom." Narcissa relaxes and snuggles herself into the blanket. Just before she is about to drift off into sleep she feels two arms wrap around her.


	12. Chapter 12

The early rays of sunlight kiss her skin. She snuggles back into the body behind her. She doesn't remember the last time she felt this relaxed and comfortable. Though she wishes she could stay like this forever, her stomach growls and so she carefully detangles herself from Hermione to sneak downstairs for breakfast. Not before kissing her on the head, though.

"Good morning, sister", Andy greets her cheerfully. In contrast to her Andy's a morning person. Rubbing her half-closed eyes she looks for things to have for breakfast.

"Don't hurt your dizzy morning brain, dear. I've already prepared breakfast."

Oh right, she didn't even register. She sits down at the table and sees three cups of tea. Three. Oh. Silently she takes a sip of her tea and then transfers some scrambled eggs onto her plate.

"Did you sleep well?"

She nods while chewing on her breakfast.

"Whish I could say the same", Andy yawns. "It was awfully noisy tonight."

She blushes, chokes on her tea. Her sister chuckles. "Oh screw you, Andy." She kicks her leg under the table.

"Hey! Why you're kicking me?", Andy protests. "I wasn't the one getting screwed."

"You know, sometimes I hate you and every core of your being", she mumbles from behind her hands covering her face, which makes Andy laugh even harder.

The stairs creak. Narcissa is a bit nervous; she hopes Andy will behave so this breakfast will go over well. She relaxes instantly, though, when she sees Hermione entering the kitchen. My God, how much she just wants to kiss her.

"Good morning", Hermione addresses the both of them.

"Morning. Would you like some pancakes, Hermione?" Andy gets up to fetch some and Narcissa takes the chance to exchange a quick kiss with the witch.

"Thank you, Andy." Hermione digs into the pancakes Andy just handed her. "We're gonna need a good start for this day." Narcissa's mood darkens instantly.

"Why? What's happening today?", Andy asks.

"Lucius' trial is today."

"What? Why didn't you tell me? I promised Teddy to take him to the zoo today. If I had known I would have send Harry and accompany you."

"That's exactly why I didn't tell you. You're already doing more than enough for me. Enjoy the day with your grandson, please."

"I'm not exactly looking forward to it, either", Hermione chimes in, "but it should be over quickly. Actually, we should hurry up. We're running late."

Narcissa is surprised. Does she want to go together? As if reading the question on her mind, Hermione says, "It's probably wise if we arrive and leave separately. We should keep our relationship on the low until the Smith trial is over. However, I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight."

"And you think that is fine? Won't it spark suspicion?"

Hermione shakes her head. "It's not unusual for a lawyer and their client to discuss a trial over dinner and such, so it should be fine." She downs her tea. "I gotta get going, now. I need to get a bit of work done before the hearing. Meet me at the Château at eight." With a smile on her face she watches Hermione saying goodbye to Andy, leaving the house and she hopes the hours will just rush by.

…

 _One year on probation. Social service._

Hermione was fuming when the judge spoke his verdict. Narcissa feels no type of way about it. She cares too little about Lucius at this point to want to see him suffer. She is just glad the first step is done. Just a couple of weeks – the divorce, Smith's trial – and all ties to her former life will be cut and she can truly start her life with Hermione. With that wonderful thought on her mind she waits for Hermione in front of the restaurant.

Her heart skips a beat when Hermione arrives. They stare at each other for a while without saying a word and Narcissa feels it takes the other woman just as much restrain not to touch her, kiss her. Every head turns as they enter the restaurant, take their seats. Narcissa is painfully aware that she has to keep her cold demeanour now more than ever. It would be a disaster if their relationship got public before the divorce and trial. Hermione makes it hard, though. Everything the woman does, scanning the menu, tugging her hair behind her ear, taking a zip of wine, is enchanting to her. "I could do this forever."

"What?" Hermione looks up from the menu, puzzled.

"Watching you. I could spend my life just watching you. You're magnificent."

Hermione blushes. That's a first and Narcissa tries hard not to smirk. Tentatively the witch grabs her hand under the table. They enjoy their dinner, their hands never parting hidden from view. In a moment of silence Narcissa surveys the other guests. It's an old habit. Blacks and Malfoys always need to know who is around in case potential challenges, traps or opportunities were lurking around. Her breath hitches at one of the faces. _Draco_ , in the company of a beautiful young woman, a date probably. She grows solemn. It doesn't look like a first date and she has no idea who the woman is. She is completely missing out on her son's life.

Hermione notices her mood switch. "What's wrong?"

"Draco's here. I … I told him why I'm divorcing Lucius."

"I reckon it didn't go well."

"No. He left without really giving me a chance to explain myself and I haven't heard from him since."

"You should approach him again, Narcissa. I hate to say it, but if I found out my mother was basically forced to marry my Dad … I would have a hard time, too."

Hermione's probably right, but she simply doesn't know what to say, how to apologize. If only she had been more courageous sooner. The "what if"-questions have been torturous friends these past weeks.

"Don't blame yourself, baby." Hermione squeezes her hand. "What's done is done. You're doing the right thing, now. That's all that matters. You've had years to come to terms with this. Give Draco a little more time. I really don't think he will shut you out of his life over this."

 _Time_. It's a funny thing. She has spent so much time waiting, now she feels like she has no time left. She just wants to start this new life with the woman in front of her without losing her son. Is she one of these people who can never have it all?

"I think I'd rather leave, now", she says. Draco's presence is making her too tense. Hermione takes care of the bill and suggests they enjoy the mild evening breeze with a little stroll towards the Tube. Andy's house is in the midst of Muggle London and there is no way to apparate there without breaking the Statue of Secrecy. When they leave the magical part of the city behind, Hermione puts her arm around her. She instantly calms. Her body fits perfectly into the other woman's and they walk the streets as one. Caught in the moment, the feeling of safety and love running through her veins, she tosses all manners aside and kisses Hermione. So much PDA would be deemed outmost inappropriate in the Pureblood world, but no one seems to mind here.

The train is awfully crowded. If someone had told her she would sit on a train amongst of a bunch of Muggles someday, she would have laughed out loud. Just the idea of it would have been ridiculous, but now she is enjoying every second of it, watching London rush by. Momentarily she is distracted by Hermione's hand on her thigh. She glances at Hermione, the witch winks at her. She chuckles and gazes back out at bustling London. Hermione wipes the chuckle right off her face as she moves her hand up her thigh, under her dress. Narcissa clutches her handbag tighter to herself, hiding the circles the witch is now making right where her thigh joins her hips. She wouldn't, would she? The witch answers by slipping her fingers past the thin barrier her thong provides. Delicately she traces her entrance as if asking for permission. Narcissa's head tells her to define, but her body has a mind of its own, clutching at the small digit, urging it inside. In one sift motion the witch slides into her, drawing a shuddered breath from her. Nothing gives away the sweet torture beneath her dress except for her heavy rising and falling chest. The man next to her side eyes her and Narcissa prays he takes her for the claustrophobic type. She manages to keep her composure. That is until Hermione presses her palm against her most sensitive spot. Her eyes flutter shut and she has to grab the edge of the seat to keep herself from trembling. This isn't going to end well. Keeping her eyes shut, dissociating her mind from her body she focuses her energy solely on the witch beside her. _Stop it. I cannot control myself_. The motions freeze instantly. She meets Hermione's gaze pointedly to let her know that no, her mind isn't playing tricks on her and yes, she is deadly serious. Eyes wide, Hermione hesitantly withdraws her hand and she relaxes. Soon after, though, Narcissa feels her again … in her mind; or rather at the edges of her mind, probing, trying to get in. She's blunt, jumbling and Narcissa tries hard not to laugh. What a sweet little amateur. Her attempts become even more blunt and now Narcissa can't hold back her laughter as she looks at a very confused Hermione. She shakes her head smugly. She's not going to break through her walls. It's just not gonna happen unless Narcissa wants her to. The train rolls into the next station and when it stops Hermione pulls her with her and out of the train. "Are you sure this is where we get off?", she asks. This is not the station she remembers they entered. Hermione doesn't answer her though and so, confused, she tries to keep up with the witch, who now walks across the street in a hurry. Every now and then Narcissa sends her a questioning glare but it remains ignored. Hermione leads, almost drags her into a nearby park. They stray from the path, into the trees and before she can ask what this is about, Hermione slams her against a trunk. Hands working their way up her bare thighs, the witch whispers in her ear, "Yes, Mrs. Malfoy, I'm sure this is where we _get off_ ", and bites her neck. "How did you do that?"

"You mean how I shielded my mind?" Narcissa now has to focus her mind on the conversation as two hands slip inside her panties, grabbing her ass.

"Mmh", the witch mumbles into her neck, "I couldn't get past your walls for nothing in the world. Like they're made of steel."

Narcissa chuckles. "They're not. You're attemps were very feeble, though."

"Oh really?" Hermione asks in a slightly offended tone as she trails down her collarbone with her mouth.

"Really. Rather amateurish. It's not difficult to shield one's mind from that", Narcissa taunts. "Does that infuriate you, honey?" Hermione bites her nipple in response and she hisses in pleasure, lets her hand wander into the witch's trousers. "Does it turn you on?" The witch growls. "I can tell", Narcissa cups her wet womanhood. Before she can start to pleasure the woman, she grabs her wrists, pins them above her head with one hand and slides two fingers of the other inside of her. Narcissa's moans are the only thing that disrupts the silence of that night.

…

The house lies dark and quiet as she comes back. Andy must have already gone to bed. She lets the door fall shut and leans against it for a moment with Hermione on her mind, heart and body. As she enjoys the calm moment she notices something tickling her temple. Air. A stream of air. Light, rhythmic. She grows rigid.

"You reek of abomination", they whisper.

 _Lucius._

She staggers to the side. She hears the shuffling of clothes, a swish of air, the familiar sound of a wand being drawn. Her own wand still in her hand from opening the door, she sends a Stupefy into the dark. It misses and Lucius cackles, "Are you sure that's how you want to go about this?"

Walking backwards into the kitchen she puts distance between them. Her hand on the wall she searches blindly for the light switch and finds it just as a spell bounces off her Protego. "Where's Andromeda?"

"Oh, don't worry. I made sure that bloodtraitor won't bother us."

Oh God. If Andromeda got dragged into this, got hurt because of her, she would never forgive herself. "Where _is_ she, Lucius? I swear, if you have harmed her in any way…"

"My my, how times have changed. Who thought you would ever care about your filthy sister? I shouldn't be surprised, though, since you are no better than her for lowering yourself to acts just as sinful."

He knows. Fear and anger cursing through her veins she fires a slicing hex towards him, leaving a deep cut on his cheek. Anger written all over his face, Lucius attacks and they engage in a battle of fast spells, breaking mirrors, lamps and their own skin. Her concentration wavers because she hears a noise. Is that Andy? Has he locked her up somewhere in the house?

Lucius takes advantage of her momentarily lapse in concentration. "Expelliarmus!"

Her wand flies right out of her hand and lands a couple of meters behind her. She expects a hex, but to her surprise Lucius lowers his wand. He approaches her, calmly, smugly and _smack_ , backhands her across the face. Her head rolls to the side, she touches her burning cheek in disgust. "You dare touch me?!", she hisses. It's a no go in battle, completely out of bounds. You don't attack another wizard with anything but a wand. It's disrespectful, erases the equality that comes from fighting with wands.

"You're one to talk." _Smack_. She stumbles. "You dare deceive me like that?" _Smack_. She falls to the floor. He's on her within seconds, pressing his entire body against her's. She beats at him, but his weight is too much for her. Magic being the only thing that could possibly help her now she desperately reaches for her wand, fumbling around blindly, but he grabs her wrists, pins them to the ground. "Who is she?", he whispers too close to her face. "Who is the whore you're fucking?" She bites his neck, drawing blood. He pins her wrists together with one hand now, presses his other arm down on her throat and whispers the incantation. He attacks her mind with full force and while he is not nearly as skilled as she is, keeping her walls up while being choked takes all the strength out of her. She fights, though. She will not let him steal her most intimate memories of Hermione. Just as his physical attack on her air pipe gets stronger so does his magical attack on her mind. The pressure on her walls increases, causing a maddening headache, while the amount of oxygen for her lungs declines. "Lucius", she chokes, "can't … breathe." Her ears grow deaf, making it impossible for almost any sound to penetrate except for a faint whisper, "You will regret this, my love." Her vision blurs, darkness becomes greater and seems so welcoming when …. The weight is off her. She gasps, breathing heavily she soaks up the much needed oxygen. There are hands on her face and she flinches at the contact. Not again. A voice tries to reach through to her. It's soft, growing more distinct until she understands, "Mother." The face of her son becomes clearer in her line of vision. "Mother, can you hear me?", he asks as he wipes a tear off her cheek she didn't notice falling. She nods and with his help props herself up against the counter.

"Stop fretting over her, Draco. She's not worth it", Lucius spits.

"Keep it, father. I don't care for your input."

"No? You did seem to care a lot when you came crying to me earlier."

"I came to you because I needed someone to talk to, not so you go and strangle my mother!", Draco shouts. Narcissa watches the exchange stunned. This is the angriest, most disrespectful she has ever seen him in front of his father.

"Your mother is a _dyke_ , Draco. You may care about her, but you should realize better sooner than later that she doesn't reciprocate the feeling."

Draco tenses just slightly, a faint frown crosses his features for a second. If she weren't such a good observer, she would have missed it. Understanding hits her instantly. That is why Draco left when she came out to him, why he hasn't spoken to her since. It's not her sexuality in itself that bothers him; it's the fear that the fact that she never wanted his father also means she never wanted him. She reaches out to him and places her hand on his cheek. "I love you, Draco. So much." He swallows, a thin wet layer building in his eyes.

Lucius scoffs.

"Leave, father. Now."

Luckily, Lucius does. As soon as the door closes behind him she starts to cry.

"Are you alright? Do you need a healer?", Draco asks.

"No, I'm fine. It's just the shock." He helps her get up, she sits on one of the kitchen chairs while he fetches a glass of water, which she takes gratefully. "You know I mean it, Draco, don't you? Your father and I and you and I it's two completely different things. I didn't want to get married, but I was very happy when I got pregnant with you. Can you understand that?"

"Yeah, I think I can", he nods. "I'm sorry, Mum. I shouldn't have left like that. I just should have talked to you."

"Don't worry about it. These past weeks have been confusing even for me and I've seen this coming. It's understandable it's even more confusing for you."

They just sit like this in silence for a while, each lost in their own thought, when Draco clears his throat, "So, ehm, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Yes, I do have a girlfriend." What a weird thing to say. The words still feel strange in her mouth.

"It's Granger, isn't it?"

"What?! I mean, yes, but how did you know?"

"Tonight, I saw you before you noticed us. I watched you. The way you looked at her spoke for itself."

"Oh." Were they really that obvious?

"Don't worry, I don't think anyone else noticed", Drace says. "But I know you and I've never seen you so happy and at ease."

She smiles. That is indeed true. Despite all the drama, she's never felt this happy.

"How do you feel about it, Draco?"

"Does it matter? It's not really my business who you're dating, is it?"

"No, it is not. But you're my son and I do care about what you think. You didn't exactly get along in school and she's the same age as you. I could imagine you might have issues with it."

"Do you love her?"

The answer comes to her without a second of hesitation. "Yes, I do." She's never said this to anyone. Actually, she hasn't even thought about it because everything with Hermione just feels so natural to her. The realization overwhelms her and she just wants to tell Hermione.

"Well, it is a bit weird, but I think I'll get over it." Draco sighs. "How did this even happen?"

"You could say it was a funny coincidence." Draco raises his brow. "No, Draco. I will not discuss this with you." Absolutely not.

"Well, if you're happy, that's all that matters. Everything else will sort itself out."

Before she can tell him how proud she is of the man he is becoming, the lock of the front door clicks. They both tense, but it's just Andy.

"Andy! Oh God, are you ok?" She hurries over to her sister and hugs her. Andy returns the hug dumbfounded, looking at her destroyed hallway and kitchen. "I'm fine. I took Teddy out for dinner, so it took us a bit longer, but what on earth happened _here?_ "

"Lucius happened", Narcissa says. She sees her sister is about to go onto one of her rants and she stops her. "Don't, Andy. Please. I've had enough for today."

"Fine." Andromeda walks over to Draco and pats him on the back. "Good to see you, Draco." Her sister winks at her.

"Good to see you, too, Mrs. Tonks."

"Please call me Andy. I assume we will be seeing each other more from now on."

"I would like that", Draco nods. "I should be going now. Have a good night." Her son hugs her and tells her, "Call me if I can do something for you", before he leaves.

Looking at her damaged home, Andy shakes her head. "When are you finally give me permission to kick his ass?"

"I never forbade you to", she says.

"Oh, be very careful what you say", Andy says smugly. "My self-restrain only goes so far."

Honestly, Naricssa wouldn't mind. She can understand Lucius' anger and disappointment to some extent, but this is too much. She cannot wait for the day she will no longer be attached to him in any way.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello, my lovelies. I'm sorry it's been so long, but I feel very uninspired lately. Don't worry, I will definitely finish this story, but it might take me longer than I thought. Also, I got a four month old kitten! She's so cute and lovely and just great, but she's also a handful and demands most of my time. So I just don't have that much time to write at the moment. Hopefully that will change as she gets a bit older and calmer (pray for me lol).

This is totally unrelated, but I retook the Sorting quiz (as I like to do because FUN) and got sorted into RAVENCLAW. And now I have an identity crisis. I took the test a second time (just to make sure) and was sorted into Huffelpuff. So I've been officially sorted into every house but Gryffindor. Wtf?

Anyway, thank you so much for sticking around and reading and reviewing! I hope you liked this update :)


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Some of you weren't happy that Narcissa didn't press charges against Lucius. Let me just say that the end of the last chapter was just that, not the end of the story ;) However, be warned things might not turn out the way you wish, but that's how it's got to be sometimes.

I only proof read this once, so have mercy on me. Now on with the story.

* * *

Carefully she traces the line with her fingers. Over the course of the day it has changed from a simple red mark to a very prominent purple-blackish line on her throat. It doesn't hurt, but it looks terrible. The smell of pumpkin soup penetrates the air and makes her stomach grumble. She pulls her polo neck up and places a glamour charm over her black eye. She doesn't want her sister spending the entire dinner shooting pitiful glares at her.

"Ah, just in time. You have an excellent nose, Cissy." Andy is hoisting the giant pot of soup onto the table. Once again she has made way too much food, but Narcissa never says anything. She is still cooking for the big family she used to have which is endearing and depressing at the same time.

Just as Narcissa is about to sit down the doorbell rings. "Did you invite someone for dinner?"

"I'll get some bread from the pantry", Andy mumbles and is off.

Narcissa frowns at her sister's behavior and goes to open the door.

"Hey baby", Hermione greets her.

"Oh hi. I had no idea you were coming over. Did Andy invite you?"

Hermione grabs her by the small of her back in pulls her in for a kiss. "She did. I can never say no to her pumpkin soup." The witch lets herself in and takes a seat.

Narcissa fiddles with the hem of her polo neck. This is unexpected. Had she known Hermione was coming over, she would have dressed better and put some make up on. Scolding herself she looks down at her simple black jeans. As if the polo neck isn't bad enough she also had to go for trousers. Ugh, she can do so much better than this.

"It's cute on you. I like it", Hermione says.

"Thank you". Narcissa doubts it, though. Besides, _cute_ is not exactly her goal aesthetic. This could have been avoided, if Andy had just told her about the invitation. Why she didn't is beyond her. Her sister is not in the position to invite her girlfriend over for her, is she?

Andromeda is back with a loaf of bread and they start dinner. Her sister and her girlfriend chat a lot. Narcissa remains mostly silent. It's great they are getting along so well, but she feels herself getting tenser by the minute. Something's off here. After dinner Narcissa and Hermione settle in the living room with two cups of butterbeer while Andy is cleaning up the kitchen. She has refused all their offers of help.

"How are you feeling?", Hermione asks.

"I'm fine", she answers, a bit irritated by this very random question.

"Are you really?" The witch reaches for her and lowers the hem of her polo neck.

Narcissa tenses. Wide-eyed she looks over to Andy who pretends to be head over in the sink. This is unbelievable. Her sister really had the nerve to tell Hermione about Lucius' assault behind her back.

Hermione's nostrils flare as she sees the bruise. Narcissa flinches as Hermione traces the dark mark. "Does it hurt?"

"No, it's fine." It is. It honestly doesn't hurt, she just really whishes Hermione wouldn't touch her right now.

"Is there more?"

"Yes." She just takes her wand and removes the Glamour. She knows Hermione would insist on seeing it anyway. The other woman gasps when she sees the black eye. She goes to touch it but Narcissa smacks her hand away.

"Does _that_ hurt?"

"Yes", she hisses, "a lot acutally."

"Doesn't Andy have a salve for it?"

"I don't want it." She wants to feel the pain, though she can't explain why. "Andromeda, you can stop pretending to clean the kitchen, now." Reluctantly Andy joins them in the living room without looking at her. "How could you do that?", Narcissa asks. "Going behind my back to tell her what _I_ should have told her?"

"You _didn't_ tell me, though", Hermione reminds her.

"I was going to once I felt ready."

"By then it might have been too late", Andy chimes in.

"Too late for what?"

"To press charges."

Narcissa goes rigid, she clenches her jaw. On the outside she looks put together, on the inside she is fuming.

"I knew you possibly wouldn't press charges and I thought Hermione could help you pluck up the courage", her sister admits.

"We could go to the Auror office right now and you would be done with it", Hermione suggests.

"It's late in the evening. No one is there anymore."

"I spoke to Harry. I told him I might need his services tonight. He will take your testimony any time if I ask him to."

This is just unbelievable. She thought she could at least buy herself some time. "I won't do it", she shakes her head.

"I feared so", Hermione sighs. "If you won't do it, I will." She pulls out an envelope. "This is a charge against Lucius ready to be sent to Harry."

Narcissa stares at her in disbelief. "You wouldn't!"

"Please, Narcissa, do it on your own", Hermione pleads.

She shakes her head. Are these two out of their minds?

Hermione gets up and out the front door.

"Hermione! What are you doing?" Narcissa follows her and can only watch as the witch gives the envelope to her owl that is perched on the banister of the picket fence. "I don't want this! Don't you understand?" But it's too late. The bird has taken off. Tomorrow, if not already tonight, Harry Potter will read the report. There's going to be a trial, another one. She feels like punching someone. "I can't believe you're doing this to me."

"I'm doing this _for_ you."

Bullshit. She grabs her coat and heads right out again. She needs to get away from here. She storms off, paying no mind to Hermione and Andy calling her name. She curses the fact that Andy lives amongst Muggles right now. The way to the Tube and the train ride seem three times longer than usual. When she leaves the Leaky Couldron and steps into a deserted Diagon Alley she stops dead in her tracks. She has nowhere to go. No family, no friends … Feeling horribly alone and distraught she wanders aimlessly through the streets. Eventually she gets tired and rests against the side of a building. Her eyes fall on a window of the house opposite her, a redhead watching her from inside. It's _that_ redhead. It's the brothel. The woman smiles at her, sliding her fingers down her breasts invitingly. Fingers twitching, she inhales sharply as she feels a certain restlessness that sets her on edge.

"Do you want her?"

Inwardly she rolls her eyes. Of course Hermione had to find her _now_.

"She _is_ stunning", the witch taunts.

Narcissa can't believe her own ears. Does she _want_ her to cheat? "It wouldn't bother you?"

"Oh it would", the witch growls, "like crazy, but I'm not gonna hold you back if it's what you need. Or you could be a big girl and come with me so we can talk."

She shakes her head.

"No? No talking? Fine. Or we could go and angry fuck", Hermione whispers in her ear.

That tears a chuckle from her throat.

"I'm sorry I upset you. I just want to help you by doing this."

"It's what would help _you_. It doesn't help me."

"And what would help you?"

She doesn't know. She never has.

"I think you need another kind of help, Cissa." Hermione places a kiss on her cheek. "As much as I wish, my love won't be able to wash all that self-loathing away."

She buries her face in Hermione's neck and cries. That hit a spot. The witch holds her trembling form, saying "Come home."

"No", she whines. "I don't have the nerve for Andy's teachings right now."

"What I mean is come home with _me_."

That is the most beautiful sentence anyone's said to her in a long time and she lets Hermione take her home.

…

The past few days have been a blur of lover's bliss and excitement. Narcissa has been spending them at Hermione's apartment. Eventhough she has been living with a partner for most of her life she has never felt so close to someone as she has these past few days. The intimacy she felt between the two of them is something completely new. This morning she went to back to Andy's house. Only reluctantly Hermione let her go and only reluctantly she had left. _Should we live together?_ The question had been on the tip of their tongues, but both were too reasonable to ask it. It would be way too soon. Now though, Narcissa understands what everyone means when they say love can lead to rash and foolish decisions.

Andy flooded her with apologies when she came back. She can't be mad at her anymore, knowing her actions were coming from a good place. She just whished everyone would stop meaning well and let her be. Now she can add a fourth trial to her to-do list. Lovely. She had banished that fact from her mind for the past days, too wrapped up in love. Now the official Ministry letter, probably an invitation to the hearing, that lies waiting on the living room table doesn't allow that illusion any longer. She opens it, not really reading it, just looking for the date of the hearing. Her brows furrow when she finds it. _Tuesday, 3 p.m._ That is today. That can't be right. She goes back to the top and actually reads the letter this time. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is asking for her presence at an urgent meeting regarding the case. This can't be good. She wonders whether Lucius will be there as well and the thought sends chills down her spine. She knows he won't be able to hurt her there, but still. She makes herself a cup of that hot bitter Muggle drink before she leaves. It's a bad habit she picked up from Andy and falls back up on whenever her nerves are strained. With caffeine rushing through her veins she heads to the Ministry.

When she arrives at Room B12 she takes a deep breath and knocks two times. The door opens immediately. She is ushered in by an unknown Ministry worker.

"Mrs. Malfoy, thank you very much for coming. I'm glad you could make it on such short notice", Kingsley Shacklebolt greets her. Gratefully she takes the seat he offers her because her legs are getting shaky. The Minister of Magic is present at this meeting? No, this definitely can't be good.

"Mrs. Malfoy, as part of the process that was initiated by Ms. Granger's charge against Lucius Malfoy our investigators tried to contact your husband this morning. Because of the severity of the allegations and the credibility to them – given he has a record of being violent toward you – they wanted to take him into custody. However, when they arrived at your manor he wasn't there. To cut it short: your husband is missing."

"I beg your pardon?"

"He was nowhere to be found in the manor and grounds. Your houseelf informed us that he hasn't been present since Friday."

That was exactly the evening he attacked her.

"We also talked to your son", the Minister continues, "but he couldn't provide any useful information. Mrs. Malfoy, do you have any idea where your husband could be? Other family members maybe?"

"No. Lucius' parents are dead and he's an only child."

"I see. Do you have any estates aside Malfoy Manor?"

"Well, we have an estate in Florence we used mostly for vacations."

The Ministry worker starts writing, probably adding the information to Lucius' file.

"What about properties of the Black family? As far as I'm aware there are several estates that are now in your possession?", the Minister asks.

"Indeed. However, they allow entrance only for members of the House of Black."

"Well, Mr. Malfoy is a member of the family through marriage", the Minister reckons.

"Technically. The wards on the properties, however, only recognize someone who is a member of the family by blood."

"You didn't change the wards to allow your husband in?"

"I did not", she replies, unable to help the smug smile that tucks on the corner of her mouth.

"Would your son have been able to bring your husband through the wards with him?"

"Yes, but I can guarantee you he didn't."

"Langdon, please talk to Draco Malfoy again to check on this possibility."

"Minister, with all due respect but that is completely unreasonable. My son saved me the night Lucius attacked me. I might not be here today if it wasn't for him. He would never aide Lucius, now. He wants to see justice as much as I do."

"Mrs. Malfoy, don't get this wrong, please, but we're not just talking about a man who's been abusing his wife here. Your husband is a high-profile former Death Eater. How do you think people will take it if it becomes public that we have no information about his current whereabouts and doings. I'm sorry, but we need to look into every possibility."

She understands, though she wishes Draco didn't have to go through this.

"That is all I wanted to talk to you about, Mrs. Malfoy. We will inform you should we have any new information. Of course, the trial will be postponed for now."

The Minister says his goodbys and when she is almost out of the door, a thought strikes her. "What about my divorce?", she asks.

"That will have to be postponed as well."

"Surely there is a way? I don't want to stay married to that person any longer."

"No, a divorce cannot be realized without both parties being present. I'm sorry but for now you will remain his wife. Goodbye, Mrs. Malfoy."

Slowly she walks into the hallway. Her stomach turns. _You will remain his wife._ Her heartbeat quickens. Words long spoken come back to mind. _You are mine, my treasured possession._ Her throat constricts. _You will regret this, my love._ She feels a million eyes on her, staring at her from every corner of the hallway. She feels sick to her stomach and she debates whether to run straight to Hermione to tell her what's going on and to ... feel safe. Her office is only a few minutes away. Before her head can come to a decision her feet start to move on their own accord. She knocks on the door two times and Hermione's gentle but firm voice tells her to enter.

"Thank Merlin you're in. I really need to …" She stops midsentence as she realizes Hermione already has a visitor. She composes herself. "Excuse me. I'm sorry for intruding."

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy. It's good to see you, again." Harry Potter gets up to greet her.

"Likewise, Mr. Potter." She nods at him courtly and swiftly turns her head to Hermione. If Potter starts another conversation about the war with her now, she's going to lose it.

Luckily Hermione gets the clue. "What was it you needed?", she asks with a slight grin on her face.

"I, eh, well I really need to talk to you", she says a lot quieter now.

"About the trial, I assume?"

"Yes. Yes, of course", she quickly agrees.

"I am afraid I am on a bit of tight schedule today, but I will contact you about a meeting as soon as possible."

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

She exits the office again. Great, that went well. She almost revealed that their relationship is of a more personal nature to an outsider. Feeling frustrated for the comfort she sought, but not received, she heads right home. As soon as she closes the door on Andy's house she casts a number of protective charms. Done with her work she steps further into the room and freezes. She tells herself it's stupid, but she simply cannot shake the feeling that he's here, hiding in all the corners at the same time. She casts a _Homenum Revelio_ and even though no one's there she rushes upstairs and barricades herself in her room. When she has placed some more protective charms on the window and door, she calms down slowly. Exhausted she falls onto her bed.

She doesn't know for how long she's been out when she hears a tapping noise on the window. She gets up too fast and sways a bit as she opens the window and takes the letter from the owl.

 _My love,_

 _I know what happened. Come over to my place tonight. I changed the wards to allow you in._

 _Hermione_

Thank Merlin. She has no idea what time it is, but it's already dark outside so she simply apperates.

The apartment is pitch dark. "Hermione?" It seems the witch isn't in yet. She lights a fire in the small fireplace and pours herself a glass of wine, making herself comfortable in the big armchair. Crookshanks sneaks over to her and settles down right next to her feet. Luckily he took a liking to her during the last couple of days. He's a grumpy, condescending cat, which is why they get along so well, she figures.

A little while later the door clicks once, the shuffling of feet, and clicks once again. "I could get used to that." Hermione watches her from the door. "You, all comfortable, here in my apartment. I like that."

So does she. Hermione comes over and she pulls her down by her collar for a kiss. "Mh, I see you've gone for my most expensive wine", the witch notes.

"Obviously." Smiling she pulls the witch down on her lap.

"Are you ok?", the woman asks.

"I am now. How do you know about it?"

"The news spread like wildfire in the Ministry." Hermione takes the glass out of her hand and takes a zip. "Don't worry. They've set a whole army of Aurors on his ass. Harry's leading. He's asked me to join, funnily enough. It's not exactly part of my field, is it? I declined anyway. I don't think it would be wise for me to cross Malfoy."

"Why?"

Hermione leans into her and whispers, "Because I feel like slitting the throat of anyone who touches what's mine."

She shudders as the witch nibbles the skin on her neck. "Yours, eh?"

"Mmh…" The witch growls and bites her neck.

A moan escapes her. The witch sucks hard on her skin and she knows she's out to mark her. That thought alone makes her core throb, as does the thigh pressing into her. She moves against it. "Hermione …" The witch increases the force of her bite slowly, increasing her arousal with it. They rock against each other, movements frantic and urgent. Just as they're about to climax, she pulls Hermione's head back by her hair. The witch comes vocally as Narcissa bits down hard on her neck, marking her just as equally.

They lay entangled like that until Crookshanks starts meowing relentlessly. "Ugh, he wants his dinner." Hermione gets up and into the kitchen with the ginger cat tailing her. Soon she can hear Crookshanks smacking. "I've got some left over lasagna. Do you want some?"

"Sure."

She can hear Hermione getting out the crockery with so much force, it sounds like it's about to break. Narcissa steps up behind her. "What's wrong, darling?"

"It's nothing."

"That's not true."

"Why don't you just read my mind?"

"I'd prefer you'd talked to me."

"How are you so good at it? Occlumency." Hermione looks grumpy.

"Does it bother you that I'm better at something than you?"

"No", Hermione shakes her head. "I find it quite attractive actually. I'm just surprised. It's an extremely difficult field of magic. I don't think I've ever met someone who's so good at it, except Snape and Dumbeldore maybe."

"Well, I learned from the best."

Hermione's eyes grow wide. "You learned from Voldemort?"

She nods.

"No offence, but why would he train you? You weren't a Death Eater."

"No, but I was the wife of one and the sister of his first lieutenant. Had the Order captured me …"

"The Order would have never captured, let alone forcefully used Legilimency on someone!"

"No, of course not. You're all a bunge of saints." She retreats from the witch.

"Maybe not saints, but we certainly had good intentions. Don't take it out on me that you were on the wrong side of the war."

Narcissa scoffs. _The wrong side of the war_. Always so black and white these Gryffindors.

"At least we didn't torture and kill for the fun of it", Hermione says.

"Excuse me? We didn't torture for fun!" She's exasperated, her voice getting high. "And I personally never tortured or killed someone."

"No, you just stood by and watched her", Hermione mumbles.

"What was that?"

Hermione turns to face her and Narcissa's heart aches at the wet glimmer in her eyes.

"I was a _child_ and you just stood there watching her torture me! And I didn't even take that darned sword!"

Narcissa is trying to fight back tears of her own now. The memory she pushed to the back of her mind comes back to life. "I … What did you expect me to do? Jump in and get her off you? Hex her?"

"Yes, for example."

"God, you're naïve." She brushes her hand through her hair, trying to brush of the emotions stirring high. She does feel guilt, remorse and yet she doesn't and she has no idea whether someone like Hermione can understand the grey grounds she's walked upon all her life. How can she show her that she did care about her, but also about herself? She approaches the witch, getting down on her knees she pulls up the sleeve of Hermione's left arm. Her tongue darts out, tracing the faint lines of the _M_ and ending it with a kiss. She does the same to every letter. By the time she finishes, Hermione is crying. Kissing the tears on her cheek, Narcissa whispers, "Bellatrix' wrath was not limited to Muggleborns and Half-Bloods. I know what torture at her hands feels like, trust me. I am very sorry you suffered through that, but I did what I did to protect myself and my son. We're not the same, Hermione. We go about things differently. Can you accept that? If not …" She doesn't dare to end that thought.

Hermione pulls her close. "I know", she whispers into the crook of her neck. "The memory just gets me sometimes and I lash out. I would have needed someone back then to protect me like you protected Draco."

"What about your Mum? Your Dad?"

Hermione turns back to their leftover lasagna, putting it in what Narcissa has learned to be a microwave. She can feel the witch retreating. She realizes that she doesn't really know anything about Hermione's family and the relationship they share. "Is it difficult to talk about the war with them because they're … Muggles? Do they understand?"

"I cannot talk to them about it. They don't remember … it … or me … or anything."

"What do you mean?"

"I obliviated them. Completely."

"You did what?", she asks, the disapproval apparent in her voice.

"I did it to safe them! So the Death Eaters wouldn't go after them for information!", Hermione justifies herself.

She raises an eyebrow.

Hermione sighs. "I did what I deemed right to protect them and myself. Yes, I see it. I guess we can be rather judgmental of others sometimes."

"We all have our flaws, but I know it's difficult to accept those of others and even more our own." She places a kiss on Hermione's head.

Dinner is quiet tonight with bittersweet memories floating around. Afterwards Narcissa decides to go back to Andy's to give Hermione some space, but the witch holds her back. "Please stay", she says, "I need you tonight." And Narcissa couldn't be happier to be there for her.


	14. Chapter 14

Charge. Testimony Smith/Interrogation. Possible testimony Malfoy/Interrogation. Final Statement.

"We're all set." Hermione puts the papers they just went through once again back into the folder.

Tomorrow will be the trial. Only one more day, but it feels like an eternity. She has been a nervous wreck since the beginning of the week.

"Have you taken your potion?" Hermione has that concerned look in her eyes that she's been spotting all week.

"Of course." Andy brewed up a little sleeping potion after she couldn't sleep a single hour on Sunday and Monday night.

"Come here." Hermione beckons her over to sit on her lap. "Just one more day and it will be over. We're gonna get through this together."

"I'm so glad you're at my side through all of this", she whispers, they're foreheads resting against the other's when a beeping sound interrupts the moment. "What was that?"

"My mobile."

"You also have one of these? Andy has one, too."

"Mh, I know. I got her number." Hermione can't be bothered to change their close position and she just glances down at the small device. "Oh hell, it's Ginny."

"You sound annoyed", Narcissa laughs. "What is she saying?"

"She's asking about my love life. Again."

"Oh, and what have you been telling her?"

"I've been avoiding that question like a Bludger."

"Why?"

"Well, we didn't want to go public until after the trial, right?"

Something about that doesn't sit right with Narcissa. "I know we didn't want to go _public_ , but she's you friend. You're not … you're not ashamed of me, are you?"

"What? Why would I be ashamed to call such a magnificent woman my girlfriend?"

"I would think I'm not the girlfriend your friends imagined for you. Wife of a Death Eater, sister of one and old enough to be your mother." She sighs, feeling insecure now that she's voiced all of this out loud.

"Mh, that might be true, but you're forgetting about all the reasons why they would want someone like you to be my girlfriend. Your intelligence matches mine, you're deeply loyal, caring and protective of the people you deem worthy, you're strong – and so beautiful", she whispers the last part, caressing her cheek.

"I'm not strong", Narcissa reckons.

"Yes, you are. You're just not aware of it." The witch pulls her face closer, their lips almost touching. "I'm proud to call you mine and I will tell everyone that I love you, if that's what you need."

Narcissa's breath hitches, her eyes grow wide with a mixture of emotions.

"What is it?"

"You just said you loved me."

Hermione's face turns serious reflecting the truth of her slip up and the witch pulls her in for a kiss. They mouths move fiercely, open, needy. "Say it. Actually say it", Narcissa demands in between kisses.

And Hermione complies. "I love you. I love you, Narcissa."

Narcissa's throat constricts. "I love you, too", she whispers. Tears fall down her face. She has never meant it as much as she does in this moment.

There's a knock at the door, followed by someone entering. Narcissa jumps from Hermione's lap, but it's too late. From the look on Harry Potter's face, she can tell that he's seen them in this close position.

"I, ehm, I'm sorry. I should have waited for a response. I can come back later", he stutters.

"It's fine, Harry." Hermione beckons her friend in. Potter joins them at the tea table.

"I'll leave you two to it", Narcissa says, wanting to get out of this embarrassing situation as quickly as possible.

"Actually, it would be great if you could stay. I came to talk about your hus … Malfoy, I mean", Potter says.

Lovely. Nervously she pats at her eyes, trying to get rid of the tears without smudging her make-up. What an embarrassing situation. Hermione seems to sense her hesitation and gently pulls her back down by her hand. Harry hands her a handkerchief. "Thank you, Mr. Potter."

"So, just to get the awkwardness out of the way, are you two …. dating?"

Gryffindors. No manners.

"Yes, we are", Hermione answers.

"That's why you've been so cheerful these past weeks."

Narcissa can't help her smile as Hermione blushes and sends her friend a death glare.

"Well, I'm happy for you, both of you."

Can this get any more embarrassing? It's not as if they need his approval or anyone else's for that matter.

"Right, I wanted to talk about Malfoy."

"Harry, before you go on", Hermione interrupts him, "please don't tell Ginny. She'll kill me if she learns that you knew before she did."

"I won't say a word."

"Thank you. Now, are there any news about Malfoy?"

"No, that's exactly why I'm here. We've searched the estate in Florence you mentioned, Mrs. Malfoy, thoroughly, but there were no signs that he is or has been residing there recently. We also searched Draco's room at the Dragon and did a second search of Malfoy Manor, in case we missed something, but we couldn't find anything. We also talked to some old elite Pureblood families, Rookwood, Mcnair, the like, but again: nothing. It's like he's completely vanished."

"That's impossible, Harry. Everyone leaves traces. You _must_ have overlooked something", Hermione says.

"You don't seem surprised, Mrs. Malfoy."

She's not. "One can very well vanish without any trace if one wishes to. Or did the Order have any clue about Voldemort's whereabouts up until the Triwizard Tournament?" She takes the silence of the two youngsters as a no. "I assume Lucius has absolutely no intention of another stay in Azkaban and vanished from the scene to avoid such. I wouldn't be surprised if he left the country."

Potter sighs, putting his head in his hands. "This is a complete disaster. Hermione, will you please, _please_ join our team? We have to find him under all circumstances."

"And what makes you think you will find him with me on the team if you have absolutely no trace of him by now?"

"Because you have always been able to find a solution, recognize a hint, when no one else has."

"I can't, Harry. Even if I wanted to, Shaklebolt would never allow it. I'm not an Auror."

Narcissa feels relieved to hear that. She doesn't want Hermione to join that team. It's too dangerous. She can't have her injured or worse ….

"I know, I know, but … _maybe_ … he would allow you to join the research team. You would be very helpful there alone."

"Possibly. I have to think about it, Harry. I want to focus on the Smith trial first and get that over smoothly."

"That's tomorrow, right? I understand completely. I actually wanted to watch the trial, if that's ok with you?", Potter asks directed towards her.

"It's a public trial, Mr. Potter", is the only answer she has. She didn't want it to be public in the first place, but it wasn't avoidable. So now it doesn't really matter who will come and who won't. The dirty details will be in the papers the next day anyway.

"Then I will be there to support you. What Smith did was disgusting." He squeezes her shoulder. She stiffens at this inappropriate display of affection. She's glad that he is so calm about their relationship, but they're not friends, are they? "I wish you all the strength for the trial, Mrs. Malfoy. Until then." With that Potter excuses himself. When he's left Hermione lets herself fall back into the couch.

"Are you relieved he took it so well?", Narcissa asks.

"Yes. He's my best friend. It means a lot. Though I think I'm gonna talk to him one on one later. Maybe he was just being polite, but I'm not too worried. He's been a lot less judgmental since the war. The Weaslys will be tougher."

She can only imagine. The Weaslys and the Blacks they couldn't be more different and never liked each other. She doesn't care about them, but for Hermione's sake she hopes they'll be accepting.

…

For the third time she touches up her make-up and makes sure her bun will stay in place. Thirty minutes before the trial begins.

"Are you coming, Cissy?" Andy's already stepped into the fireplace, holding some floo powder in her hand. Narcissa nods and joins her sister.

Within seconds the green flames of a Ministry fireplace spit them out into a sea of waiting journalists. Flashlights go off, animated voices expressing surprise of seeing the two Black sisters together. The first headline is made. Narcissa pays these people no mind. Spine straight, head held high she moves through the crowd. Andromeda walks beside her with just as much grace. Once a Black always a Black. As they near the courtroom she sees a familiar face. "What did I tell you, darling?" She asked him not to come, did not want him to hear all the dirty details, but alas he's an adult now with a mind of his own.

"And since when do I listen to you?" Draco gives her a kiss on each cheek. "I want to support you, mother."

"I appreciate it."

"This is ridiculous", Draco reckons as more flashlights go off and self-writing quills scribble away, documenting their exchange.

"Mr. Malfoy, it's a surprise to see you here", the shrill voice of Rita Skeeter soars above the crowd. "A Mama's boy after all?"

"Just ignore her, Draco", Narcissa whispers to him.

"I have and will stand by my mother. No further comment", he says.

Luckily, a Ministry worker opens the door to the court room and beckons her inside before Skeeter can ask any more questions. She exchanges looks with Draco and Andy, who smile at her reassuringly one last time and steps inside. The room is huge. There will be a lot more people present than she expected. As for now the rows are empty, except for one seat on the right at the front. Hermione smiles when she sees her and pulls out the chair next to her. "Ready to kick some ass?", the witch asks as Narcissa sits down. She aims to smile confidently but apparently it goes wrong. Hermione looks around the room quickly, then places a hand on her cheek. "I got you, baby. We'll get through this together." She relaxes a bit.

Tugging at Hermione's lawyer robes she says, "You look snazzy." She's never seen her in them before.

"Thank you. I quite like it", the witch says, patting down her robe. "Makes me feel like a badass."

Narcissa chuckles. "You are a badass, as you put it."

The grand doors open wide and Narcissa quickly withdraws her hand. She doesn't watch the people entering and filling up the room. Her sister and son are there. That's all she needs to know. Just before the last person has taken their seat, Smith and his lawyer enter. She doesn't look at them. They all rise as the Wizengamot, lead by Kingsley Shaklebolt, enters the court room. After a short greeting he asks them to have a seat.

"We are here today", the Minister starts, "for the trial of Narcissa Malfoy against Barnaby Smith, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Prosecuter is Hermione Jean Granger, Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, defence for the accused is William Davies. Ms. Granger, please read the charges."

"The charges against Barnaby Smith are as followed: He and Mrs. Malfoy met to realize a deal he and my client's husband, Lucius Malfoy, made in May this year which promised Smith sexual intercourse with my client. During the meeting my client expressed vocally and physically that she no longer wishes to take part in said deal. Smith then proceeded to force himself upon my client until I was able to intervene. He is therefore being charged with attempted rape."

"Mr. Davies, does your client want to say anything to these allegations?", Shaklebolt asks.

"Yes, Minister, my client wishes to …."

"Actually", Smith interrupts, "I do not wish to testify."

What? Her eyes snap up to meet the grinning face of Smith and she knows in an instant he's doing this on purpose to humiliate her even further for refusing him. Hermione sends her a confident, reassuring look that she knows is meant to calm her, but she can't help her breathing quickening and her hands trembling.

"Are you sure, Mr. Smith?", the Minister asks.

Smith's lawyer is whispering to him frantically, but Smith says, "The Malfoys and I had a private deal. To call that rape is ridiculous. That's all I have to say."

All hell breaks loose as Hermione and Davies rush to the Minister's desk, arguing with each other and the Minister at the same time, while the Minister tries to calm the roaring crowd.

Narcissa closes her eyes and swallows.

* * *

 **A/N:** The end is near, my dears. I'm sad and excited at the same time. The next update shouldn't take long. Until then, let me know what you think!


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

No. Absolutely fucking no. She slams the door of the Ministry room shut behind her. Someone's brave enough to open it soon after. "Listen, Narcissa …", Hermione starts.

"You promised! You fucking promised he would testify!"

"Actually I didn't _promise_ that."

"Don't be petty now, girl. You said his lawyer told you he'd agreed to …" Her chest constricts. Suddenly it's hard to breathe. She gasps for air, clutching at her robes that feel too tight.

"Hey, calm down. Don't pass out on me, now." Hermione helps her unbutton her blazer, then rubs her back. Slowly her breathing goes back to a normal pace. "I really did not see this coming", Hermione continues, "and neither did Davies. I have no idea what Smith thinks he's doing, but it's actually not that bad for us."

"How exactly?"

"Smith just dug his own grave. A confession might have gotten him some good points and reduced his sentence, but this behavior? He's done for, also professionally."

"I don't want to testify", she whispers. "Can't you do it? You witnessed it."

Hermione shakes her head. "I only witnessed the conversation at the anniversary and the end of your meeting with Smith. That's not enough. Shaklebolt will want to hear what Lucius told you, how the meeting with Smith started and such."

"Surely they can make him testify? With Veritaserum?"

"That's no longer legal. You're going to have to testify, now."

"I'm used to having to do things, am I not?" She bites her lip, almost breaking skin. "I can't do this. I can't tell all of these people what he did … I couldn't even tell Andy or you."

"Then do it now."

"What?"

"Talk to _me_. When Shaklebolt asks you what happened, you look at _me_ and you talk to _me_ , ok?"

"Ok. Yes, I can do that." She nods vigorously to assure herself.

A Ministry official opens the door and pops his head through. "The Minister has asked to resume the trial", he informs them.

Hermione nods at him and leads her back into the courtroom by the small of her back. There's a perceptible tension in the air.

"We resume the trial of Narcissa Malfoy against Barnaby Smith. Mr. Smith has refused the opportunity to testify", the Minister continues. "Ms. Granger, does your client wish to testify?"

"Yes, Minister, my client wishes to testify."

"Then please step forward, Mrs. Malfoy."

She gets up and slowly makes her way to the chair in the center, very aware of the sea of eyes that is now focused on her. She feels dizzy as she sits down.

"Ms. Granger said there was a private deal between Smith, your husband and yourself that consisted of the exchange of sexual intercourse for business advantages", the Minister summarizes. "Is that true?"

"Yes, such a deal existed."

"When did you first hear of this deal and how exactly was it presented to you?"

"My husband told me about it at breakfast the morning after the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. Apparently that's where he and Smith talked and came to this agreement. He told me Smith offered great business opportunities under the condition that I … well, that I slept with him."

"And you agreed to do so?", the Minister asks.

"Yes."

"Did you agree freely or did your husband pressure you? Did he threaten you?"

"No", she says, voice trembling, eyes cast downward. She realizes how this must look to the Wizengamot, the people. She feels herself blushing.

"Minister, if I may?", Hermione intervenes. He nods.

"Mrs. Malfoy", she begins, "when your husband presented this deal to you, how did you feel?"

"I, eh, I don't …" She tries to focus her mind, focus on that moment when Lucius told her, but her thoughts are all over the place. Hermione coughs and it makes her head snap up, looking into those warm hazel eyes she says, "Shocked. I was completely shocked. Our marriage was arranged, you know, and still, we always used to have a deep level of respect for each other. That he lost all respect for me … Well, I don't how it happened, but it really threw me off."

"What made you then agree to this deal, Mrs. Malfoy?", the Minister asks.

Still looking at Hermione, she answers, "I felt obligated to. I am a Pureblood woman of one the oldest, most prestigious houses steeped in tradition. We do what our parents tell us to, we do what our husbands ask of us. You might not understand, but it is how we are raised. And these past years have been very difficult for Lucius. He's been shunned widely by society, he's been very depressed and then this opportunity came along. I didn't want to ruin it for him."

The Minister nods. "So you agreed. When the day came to uphold your part of the deal, what happened?"

"We were supposed to meet in his office here in the Ministry, so I went there. His secretary let me in to wait until he arrived. When he did arrive, he attempted some small talk at first, saying how glad he was about the deal, but then … well, then he got physical."

"As was part of the deal", Shaklebolt reminds her. "At what point did you change your mind?"

"The minute he stepped through the door. It was only then that I truly realized what I had agreed to do and that I couldn't go against my nature any longer. I just couldn't."

"Against your nature? What do you mean?"

Oh. Shit. She hadn't meant to say that. Well, it's too late now. "I do not feel that way about men, I, ehm … What I mean is that I'm homosexual." The room breaks into _ohs_ and _ahs_. That's headline number two. Nervously she looks at Hermione. Has she just messed this up? But the woman smiles and nods at her.

"Quiet, please!" Shaklebolt calms the room with his firm voice. "Please continue, Mrs. Malfoy. What happened next?"

She breathes faster as she dives into the memory, suppressed feelings coming up to the surface. "He kissed me and led my hand to his groin. Then he pushed me down, he pushed my head down and that's when I pushed him away and told him I couldn't do it, that I had changed my mind."

"How did he react to that?"

Her voice gets soft as she says, "Well, he didn't like it. He said we had a deal and I had to do what he wanted." A lump forms in her throat. Knowing the Minister is going to ask anyway, she forces herself to continue. "He grabbed me and threw me down. I couldn't mo… I was trapped between the desk and him. I tried to beat at him, screamed, but …" Tears start falling down her face. "… he forced my mouth open and …" Now she is openly crying, unable to continue. Flashlights go off. She covers her face with her hands. Goddammit, she wanted to keep it together.

"Mr. Cole", Shaklebolt addresses a Ministry worker, "if you will you please escort Mrs. Skeeter out of the courtroom. Thank you."

Hermione takes the chance to intervene. "Minister, if I may give my testimony, now?"

"Yes. The report you filed said you found Mrs. Malfoy and Mr. Smith in this situation?"

"That is correct, Minister."

"Why were you entering Mr. Smith's office in the first place?"

"I overheard the end of the conversation between Lucius Malfoy and Mr. Smith at the anniversary that Mrs. Malfoy mentioned. I did not hear details; I only heard them mentioning a deal that would end in a meeting between Mr. Smith and Mrs. Malfoy. On the day in question I saw my client head for Mr. Smith's office all by herself. Remembering the conversation I feared that something might be wrong. So I decided to follow and go into his office."

"And when you entered Mr. Smith's office what did you see?"

"I saw what Mrs. Malfoy just described. Mr. Smith was trapping my client between the desk and himself. He kept her mouth open with his hands and was about to rape her. My client was screaming and beating at Mr. Smith, so it was obvious to me that this was a not a consensual situation. I told him to let go of her and he did. He told me I had no business interfering, but obviously as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and as a human being I felt otherwise. I helped Mrs. Malfoy out of the office and offered my assistance in the upcoming lawsuit."

"Thank you, Ms. Granger. Mrs. Malfoy, do you confirm this?"

She nods her head. "That's what happened."

"Can you tell the Wizengamot how you've been coping since the incident?"

"I've been trying to make positive changes in my life these past months and I have, but it's been difficult. This … assault, it's set me back. It's made me feel … worthless, as if I don't deserve to be happy and treated respectfully. And I've been trying not to think about it. I didn't speak about it with anyone close to me, but I have trouble sleeping, I feel hopeless and anxious a lot of the time."

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. Would you be willing to repeat your testimony under the influence of Veritaserum?"

Hermione told her the Wizengamot might suggest this if they doubt her testimony, though she has the right to refuse, but she sees no reason to. She has nothing to hide. "I would, Minister."

"Mr. Davies, do you have any questions for Mrs. Malfoy or Ms. Granger?"

The lawyer simply shakes his head.

"Then the Wizengamot will now retread to come to a verdict." The Wizengamot leaves the court room.

Narcissa goes and takes her seat next to Hermione again. "Did I do alright?"

"You did great", Hermione says.

Twenty minutes pass until the Wizengamot returns. When it does she is strangely calm. Whatever the verdict will be, this is going to be the end to this nightmare. They all rise.

"After consideration of the testimonies given", Shaklebolt begins, "the Wizengamot finds Barnaby Smith to be guilty of attempted rape of Narcissa Malfoy. He is sentenced to eight years in Azkaban and is released from any of his positions within the Ministry as of this moment. Please have a seat."

My God, they won. They actually won. Hermione has to pull her down by her arm because she's in a trance.

"The Wizengamot came to the conclusion that Mrs. Malfoy gave a credible testimony and sees no reason why she should have made the allegations up. Ms. Granger backed up the testimony by giving her account of the incident. The Wizengamot therefore sees no reason to doubt Mrs. Malfoy's testimony and does not see it necessary to make her repeat it under the influence of Veritaserum. Since Mr. Smith did not acknowledge his actions as wrong and didn't show any remorse, the Wizengamot decided to go for the highest verdict for attempted rape. With this the case is closed. If you wish, Mr. Smith, you can file an objection within two weeks from now. Thank you."

Relief washing over she gets up and Hermione pulls her into a hug. Her son and sister come over to congratulate her. "I'm proud of you", Draco tells her. He turns to Hermione. "Thank you for defending her and … everything else." He reaches out his hand and they shake hands. The exchange makes her hopeful, the glimpse of a possible good relationship between them in the future.

"How about we go home to celebrate?", Andy suggests.

"I would love that, but how do we get through that?" Narcissa points towards the crowd of reporters who are already screaming questions and comments from afar.

"We can take the back exit", Hermione says and leads them out of the courtroom and to her own office where they use the fire place to Andy's house.

They enjoy the dinner Andy prepared. The four of them chatting lightly amongst them gives Narcissa a sense of family, an unconventional sense of family that she never imagined, but that feels more real than anything she has ever called family.

…

"Give it up, Andy." It's 10 a.m. She's slept in long, finally, the weight of the past weeks off her shoulders. Now she's having breakfast and would like to have a look at the press coverage of the trial, but Andy's hiding the papers from her. "Are you really gonna make go into to Diagon, now, just to buy the Prophet when we already have it here?"

Andy sighs. "Fine. Here you go", and throws the paper on the table.

She doesn't have to search for the articles in question, they're on the front page. Oh God, the picture of her breaking down and crying in motion. That's one of the disadvantages of magical pictures; the movements make it even more real and dramatic. She only skims through the article, there's another one she's more anxious about:

 ** _Narcissa's break away_**

 _The heiress of the House of Black shocks us and comes clean about a life-long secret_

 _She stands in the long line of witches and wizards of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black and is half of one of the most powerful Pureblood couples. For decades she provided us with headlines of prestigious high society balls at Malfoy Manor, dazzling eye-catching dresses and that courageous deed at the final battle. Even these past weeks our readers have been shocked to see the Malfoy marriage shatter into pieces with Narcissa filing for divorce. Gossip ran wild with rumours from the attempted rape by Barnaby Smith to a cheating Lucius Malfoy being the reason for the fall out. Now, Narcissa Malfoy seems to have revealed the true reason for the divorce._

 _While she gave her touching, heartfelt testimony she told a confused Wizengamot that she could no longer "go against her nature" as Smith demanded sexual intercourse with her. When Minister Shaklebolt asked her to specify that statement she admitted that she was homosexual. To say that the courtroom, that was packed to the brim, was shocked would be an understatement. Journalists and spectators broke into animated chatter. Has her husband Lucius Malfoy been aware of this and simply agreed to a business marriage? Or has he been nastily deceived by the love of his life for decades? What does Draco Malfoy think about all of this and, most importantly, what secret lovers has the ice queen been hiding in that closet of hers? While Mrs. Malfoy was unavailable for any interviews, we might just have the answers to the secret love life of Narcissa Malfoy._

 _One of Mrs. Malfoy's secret lovers might be none other than Hermione Granger! Yes, you read that right. Rumour has it that the Golden Girl has been successful in melting our ice queen. Granger has been defending the Pureblood lady in the Smith trial, so naturally they've been meeting to prepare for the hearing … and possibly more. Mrs. Malfoy has been stopping by Granger's office unusually often as sources from within the Ministry report. They've even been seen "discussing the trial" over dinner at the prestigious Château. Other guests of that night tell me they have been exchanging very intense looks … just a little too intense for a lawyer and her client. To add fuel to the fire, yesterday after the verdict had been spoken Hermione Granger congratulated her client by pulling her into a tight hug – a highly unusual gesture, especially from Ms. Granger who is known for her very professional, all business attitude and it only sparks our suspicions. The two surely seem like an unlikely pair, however, opposites attract as they say and surely Granger's noble gesture of rescuing Narcissa from the greedy hands of Barnaby Smith brought the two closer together. None of the ladies were willing to give a statement on their relationship statues, but you can be sure we'll keep an eye on them._

Lovely, just lovely. She knew that dinner was a bad idea and Hermione's gesture yesterday … well, the witch clearly isn't skilled in concealing emotions. Though, who is she to speak? Ever since the woman swept her off her feed she has had trouble keeping herself together, too. And while they did want to go public after the trial, she hates rumours about herself. She is the one who's going to determine when and how people will know and she will make a show of it. People talk either way, so she better make it worth their time.

"It's early in the morning. Why are you sulking already?" Hermione is entering the kitchen almost blindly, rubbing her eyes.

"This is why I'm sulking." She hands the papers to her. "And it's not early. You slept in really long, honey."

"Oh well, I deserve it after these past weeks."

"You sure do." She gives Hermione a peck on the lips and fetches breakfast for her.

"Ugh, this is one of the things I hate about my position. All this senseless gossip", Hermione says, scanning the article.

"Tell me about it. Though, the article is a lot more good-willed than I expected from Skeeter, which makes me think that she has something up her sleeve."

"She doesn't. _I_ have something up _my_ sleeve which could get her into serious trouble, so she's careful when she writes about me."

"Ooh, am I having a bad influence on you?"

"Mh, and I rather like it. But you're not too happy about the article, are you?"

"No. I love good gossip when I get to use it to my advantages, but I don't need this, which is why I plan to turn this into something positive by us going public with a grand performance."

"Of course you do", Hermione chuckles. "Well, _this_ ", she pulls out a little black box, "might be useful for your grand performance."

Narcissa takes the box from Hermione and opens it carefully. Her face lights up at the necklace inside. It's a small black plate with a white flower on it.

Hermione steps up behind her. "It's a narcissus", she explains as she puts the necklace on her. "And I hope it will remind you to take care of yourself first instead of everybody else, so that you will blossom just like this flower."

That is the most thoughtful gift she ever got. She takes Hermione's hand and kisses it. "Thank you so much. This means a lot to me."

The woman bends down to kiss her cheek. "Are you happy?" She breathes the question against her skin.

" _Very_."

* * *

 **A/N:** My dear readers, this is the end. Thank you _so much_ for reading, following, liking and commenting. The feedback to this story has been very unexpected and absolutely amazing. This is the first story that I didn't simply write down, but actually worked on, planned, structured etc (my least favourite part of writing). It's also the first story ever that I actually finished and that means more to me than I could explain. So, again, thank you for coming along on the ride.

Now, some of you might be surprised that the story is ending here. For me the core of this story has always been Narcissa coming to terms with herself and her journey to an authentic life and that journey has ended. Obviously I have left some loose ends and that on purpose. So if you're up for it, there _might_ be a sequel. I have a lot of ideas for it, more than for this, which means I'll have to do a lot of plotting before I even start writing. So it will take some time before I'll start posting the sequel. I might create a new story for that or I might just continue this one. We'll see. Until then _Complex Desire_ is "complete".

Lastly, I wish all of you who celebrate it a wonderful merry Christmas! And to those who don't, I wish you a couple of cozy, relaxing days off!


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